


to heal a broken heart

by siriuslydraco



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, F/M, detective jaime, young mother sansa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-11-21 12:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18142415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslydraco/pseuds/siriuslydraco
Summary: Sansa has run from an abusive relationship along with her daughter. Jaime has run from the past. Together they learn that having a broken heart isn't always the worst thing in the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansalannistark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansalannistark/gifts).



> So here is a new Jaime x Sansa story that I've been wanting to write for a while now. It will contain some triggers like death and abuse but it will have lots of fluff too so I hope you enjoy

The sidewalk is wet and hard under her feet and she instantly regrets having taken off her heels as soon as she'd come into the house. She's breathless now and cold as the freezing rain spatters against her bare legs and arms. The dress she had ended up wearing tonight was tight and black and _short_ and Sansa was vaguely aware it was riding up her thighs as she ran. She hadn't wanted to wear it but _he_ had made her, he always made her do everything. But she can't think of him now, she can't think of how she had left him on the kitchen floor with a bleeding head and a smashed vase all over the tiles. 

She can't think of anything- not the horrid cold, not the burning pain in her thighs or the scratching of the pavement under her bare feet. She can't think of how when she had gotten home from her colleague's birthday party that he had been waiting for her on the couch, stinking of alcohol and burning with a seedy sort of anger. She had kicked off her heels the minute he had stood up- she had wanted to be stable on her feet during whatever abuse he would decide to unleash on her. 

"Hey, I thought you weren't back until later" she shakily said, trying desperately to start some conversation to distract him with "where's the babysitter?" 

"Sent her home" he had slurred. 

His rough hand was around her throat then, squeezing and squeezing until her eyes watered and he was throwing insults in her face. _Slut_ , he had slurred at her, pulling her dress up roughly and Sansa had wanted to tell him that he had in fact chosen the dress. But then again she knew in the back of her mind he always chose things like this for her to wear just so he could blame her for it later. It gave him some excuse to give her a new set of bruises. 

" _Ramsay_ " she had wheezed out " _Stop_ " 

"I know you were with someone else tonight you little slut" he had hit her in the face then, hard and sure, like how a man should hit another man. Not a woman. The bruise tingled beneath her skin and she knew it would bloom into a deep purple colour tomorrow. She _never_ spoke to other men, Ramsay had made her too afraid to even make eye contact with the male cashier in the local shop. She never cheated, but when he was drunk he was always convinced that she sinned too much. 

The crying came after he had thrown the coffee table in the air and pushed Sansa roughly onto the couch, but the screams weren't coming from Sansa. They were coming from down the hallway, where the little girl lay in her bed. 

"She hasn't shut up crying for her slut mother all night" Ramsay had roared then, taking his attention away from Sansa and letting his black eyes focus down the hallway. He moved swiftly then and was in the kitchen in a second. Sansa's blood went cold when she heard him rummaging in the cutlery drawer. He couldn't. He _wouldn't_. 

She didn't wait to find out but jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen. He was like a madman, his black curls and black eyes wild and dangerous and as he spun around she saw the silver knife in his hand. _This is it,_ she thought, _the night I've been having nightmares about for months. He's going to kill us_. 

"Ramsay please, don't touch her. Hurt me, I'm begging you to hurt me. Don't touch my girl" she can feel the hot sting of tears coming from her eyes as she stands in front of him and it feels as if every part of her is trembling and shaking with nerves. She has imagined this night for so long and each day she had been living in constant fear that it would happen, and it here it was. 

 _He'll end up killing you Sansa_. Margaery's words ring in her head, clear and as loud as if she were standing here now. But she made a decision, she didn't care if he killed her. But she would _not_ allow him to touch her daughter. 

The knife was hot and sharp as Ramsay brought it down, slashing her forearm as she held it up to protect her face. She felt like screaming out but the shock of the pain didn't allow her to. He pushed her aside then in his drunken rage and she was knocked back into the kitchen counter. She was frantic now and her hands trembled as she looked for something, _anything_ to stop him. She picked up the crystal vase before she even knew what she was doing and before Ramsay could leave the kitchen she brought it down on the back of his head. 

She hadn't been expecting him to fall as hard as he did, landing like a ton of bricks onto the hard kitchen floor. She heard a deafening crack and then she saw the blood pool at the back of his head, making his black hair slick with it. The vase was smashed into a thousand pieces all around him, and one shard stuck out agonisingly from his arm where he had landed on it. He wasn't dead, she was certain of that when she could see his back moving up and down. A part of her sunk at the reality that he was going to come around in a couple minutes. 

Her bare feet took her like lightning to her daughters room before she even made up her mind to run. She was awake in the bed, her massive green eyes wide and frightened looking. She was only two years old, only a baby still and even in her moment of sheer terror Sansa had time to berate herself for being the worst mother of all time. 

 _How had she allowed herself to become the woman who put her daughter's life in danger?_ She didn't have time to answer it though, she just grabbed the little bundle that lay shaking under her Princess Merida bed sheets and ran. 

"Mama, I want bunny" she cried, her little hands grasping the air. She had no time to go back, she could hear Ramsay grumbling from where he lay on the floor. The ragged little bunny went everywhere with her daughter, her brother Robb had gotten it for his niece when she had been born and she never let it out of her sight. She pushed the sentimental thought out of her head as she threw open the front door. 

"We'll get bunny tomorrow" she reassured her daughter. But this time she was certain that there would be no more tomorrows in that house. 

She looked down at her daughter now as she ran, her wild red curls bouncing around her face. Sansa held her against her chest tightly, not letting her go once since she had ran from that house. Her arm ached from where Ramsay had slashed it and the deep crimson blood was soaking into the back of her daughters pyjama top. Her large green eyes were filled with tears, and Sansa's heart ached. Her daughter had no idea what was happening and was probably even more scared than Sansa. 

 _It's okay, sweet girl_ , she just kept telling her as she ran, _we'll be okay_. 

She kept running and running until she thought she would collapse, but every time her pace faltered she was convinced that every rustle in the trees was _him_ calling her name and every time the wind blew on her skin that it was _him_ breathing on her neck. So she kept on running, something she had been trying to do for years now. 

She saw the suburban red doored house before she even realised where she had been running to. Her body shook with relief as she ran up the steps of the front porch and her hand trembled as she pounded on the door. She thought then of her niece and nephew that slept soundly behind the door but another gust of wind rustled the trees and she yelped, looking behind her shoulder before banging on the door again. 

"Mama, I'm scared" her daughter cried in her arms, and before Sansa had time to answer her the red door swung open. Blue eyes, wide and full of an anger that eased as soon as he saw his sister standing on his porch, met her eyes that were equally as blue. The baseball bat that he held tightly in his hands was abandoned against the hallway entrance as he relaxed. His eyes took her in fully then and the scene he saw before him made him stiffen. In front of him he saw his niece with her wet eyes and trembling lips and his sister with her tear stained face and bloodied arm and he just stood frozen in shock for a minute until she spoke.  

"Robb" Sansa cried "you have to help us"

* * *

The water was warm and bubbly and Sansa swished it with her hand before placing her daughter in the tub. It was amazing how quickly a child's innocence overcame any lingering memory of trauma as soon as they were given something like bubbles and toys. She wasn't naïve, she knew there would be nights when her baby cried over the nightmares she would have, or how when she was a teenager the abuse she had witnessed would affect her in ways she would never expect. But for now Sansa enjoyed her daughter's ability to forget. She wished she could forget. 

"Lyanna, my sweet girl" she murmured as her daughter splashed her tiny hands in the water. She would be three in another few weeks yet Sansa could still not believe she had a child.

Even now, after nearly three years the novelty had not worn off. Sometimes she'd find herself staring at her, tracing her pale skin and pouty little lips and wondering how something so perfect had been born from something so horrible. Ramsay was her father, but her daughter was _nothing_ like him. She didn't even resemble him in the slightest. She had Sansa's colour hair, with the same curls as her brother Robb and cousin Jon. She had the mischievous smirk that Arya and Rickon wore in situations when they were up to no good. She had the intelligence of Bran, and spoke words that shocked Sansa sometimes. She was mannerly and always said please and thank you just like her grandma and mama. A proper little lady, her father used to say about Sansa, and she had no doubt that if he was here now he would say the same thing about Lyanna. 

The thought of her family made her shake and as Lyanna sat in the water and splashed the rubber toys around Sansa bowed her head and cried. Hard but silently. She'd become rather good at that. 

The last time she had been with her family was at her fathers funeral, and even then Ramsay hadn't allowed her to go to her mothers house afterwards. _I'm the only family you need_ , he would hiss in her ear. She had obeyed him, like she always had, and had walked away as her mother had watched her go with tear filled eyes. She had been so stupid, and had allowed someone so evil and horrid to control her life for three whole years. 

She missed her mother, and all her brothers and even her sister who had always gotten on Sansa's nerves as a child. But she would give anything to have them all back and here with her now. But they weren't. Arya lived in Essos with Gendry, Bran and Rickon were studying in Kings Landing and her mother lived back in Wintertown. But Sansa hadn't been back there since her father had been buried. She had walked away from her family that day, and no matter how many times they tried to call her or contact her she would never answer. Each and every time they had expressed a concern about her relationship she had smiled and assured them that she was fine. 

She hadn't been fine, but she had always been too ashamed that she had been weak enough to allow Ramsay to abuse her. Her father had taught them to be strong, and she had failed him. She'd failed them all. 

There was a knock on the door then, soft and gentle but it made Sansa jump nonetheless. 

"Hey Sans, it's me. Can I come in?" came the voice of Robb's wife. 

"Yeah come in" she tried to sound chirpy but it didn't work. Margaery walked in to the bathroom, beautiful and elegant despite the fact she had been woken up by her terrified sister in law at four in the morning. Her long brown hair was tied up in a messy knot and her light blue dressing gown hugged her body in the place where her swelling stomach grew. She was only two months along. Sansa remembered reading the text Marg had sent her when she had found out, but Sansa hadn't replied. 

"How're the twins? Did you get them back to sleep? I'm really sorry I woke them" Sansa said but Margaery just waved a hand as she knelt down beside the bathtub. 

"Don't worry about it Sansa, you're safe that's all that matters. Besides those little buggers would wake up at that time anyway and try to raid the fridge" her sister in law smiled at her and despite Sansa's sadness she managed one back. The twins, Olenna and Eddard, were a year older then Lyanna and had inherited all the wildness of the Stark side. Just like the rest of her family Sansa hadn't seen them in two years. 

"How's Robb?" it came out as a whisper and Sansa let her eyes wander back to where her daughter now sat trying to make the rubber ducks have a race through the bubbly water. Once inside their house, Margaery and Robb had taken very different reactions to the situation. Margaery, being a nurse, was calm and collected and ran to get her first aid kit to sort out Sansa's gushing arm. 

Robb had frantically checked over his niece, lifting up her pyjama top as soon as he had saw it was covered in blood. His eyes had glistened with tears when Sansa had choked out to him that it was her blood and not Lyanna's. Lyanna wasn't hurt. 

"He's calmed down a bit. He still wants to call Jon and go back there to finish Ramsay off. But I convinced him not to" she adds when she sees Sansa's eyes go wide with fright "I told him it would just make things worse" 

"I'm so stupid. I was such a stupid girl" Sansa cries, wiping her tears away frantically but Margaery moves closer to her and puts an arm around her waist. 

"You are not stupid Sansa, not one bit. You're a victim of something horrible and you should never think that you were stupid. You were afraid, but you can't blame yourself for staying all those years. Be proud that you left" her words were only slightly comforting but Sansa nodded anyway in feigned agreement. 

"I really do love my family, despite what they might think. I love Robb, and you. I was just always too afraid to say something or to run to them for help. I let him get into my head and alienate me from you all. I never even realised that that's what was happening" Sansa told her, leaning her elbows on the edge of the bathtub "but tonight was too much. I knew in my heart he was going to hurt us bad and I couldn't let him hurt her, and I'm sorry if I brought all this on you. I'm sorry" 

"Don't apologise, you have nothing to say sorry for. Robb is your brother and he adores you, and even though you haven't seen him in a while doesn't mean he doesn't love you anymore. He'd do anything for you" 

She wiped away more tears that were falling from her eyes because she didn't want Lyanna to notice her crying, but she knew when she was alone in the dark tonight that she'd probably cry herself to sleep. 

"How's your arm?" Margaery decides to ask her then as Sansa winces a little as she grabs a bottle of shampoo. 

"Stiff" Sansa replies, as she rubs over the tight bandage gently "but not as sore as it was before" 

"Here let me do it" she offers as she takes the bottle from Sansa's hands and squirts a little bit onto the flaming hairs of the child that sits in the water. Sansa thanks her as Marg begins washing her daughters hair, letting the blood that had managed to soak into the curls run into the bubbly water. Sansa watches with a heavy heart as her daughter giggles and chats to her aunt, and once again she wishes she was a child. So easy to move on. So easy to forget. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Jaime! Detective Lannister, come in!" the sound of the car radio system whirled in his ears as he lifted his head off the steering wheel. He could smell the engine fuel and the rubber from the burning tyres and as he lifted his head he saw that the car was indeed smoking. 

 _Brilliant,_ he thought, _just how I wanted to spend my Thursday evening_. He scrambled for the radio with shaky hands and brought it to his mouth. 

"Bronn is that you?" he said, his voice was rough and his nose was beginning to burn with the smoke. 

"I'm currently chasing the suspect down Steel Street on foot" Bronn told him and Jaime suddenly felt himself lurch out of his position. They'd been chasing this suspect for months, and he had left a trail of bloody bodies behind him. _The Kings Landing Slasher_ , the newspapers had called him, the title making Jaime despise him even more than he already had. 

They had been tipped off tonight by an anonymous witness who saw a man wielding a large knife trying to break into her neighbours house. They had arrived hurriedly on scene but it had been too late. The young couple had lay slain on the floor but Jaime had caught sight of the hooded suspect before he even entered the house. He had been in pursuit, along with his partner Bronn when he had been forced to swerve the car out of the way of an unexpected pedestrian. That's how he had ended up with the front of his car jammed in the corner of a brick wall. 

Bronn had obviously not wasted any time in removing himself from the smoking vehicle and pursuing him on foot. Jaime fumbled at his gun belt and removed the semi automatic, checking it over once before speaking into the radio again. 

"Hang tight, I'm on my way" 

His legs were slightly wobbly as he left the police car, but Jaime was a trained detective and specialist firearm officer. He was trained to withstand pain and keep pushing, so he ignored the deep gash that was dripping blood from his head and persevered. It would probably just be another scar he could add to the list of others that adorned his body. 

The streets of Kings Landing, especially in the not so wealthy areas, were dark and littered with rubbish and as he crept down it he found it hard to keep quiet when there were so many glass bottles and cans thrown around. But he knew what he was doing, and he liked the chase. Despite the fact he was bruised and bleeding he actually liked the feeling the adrenaline gave him as he stalked the murderer in the dark. He was like a lion stalking his prey and he was sure and confident as he pointed his weapon. 

He found Bronn tucked behind a large rubbish bin, a similar gash to Jaime's running down the side of his face. Despite his injury his eyes were widened with the same adrenaline that was coursing through Jaime. Perhaps the fact they both loved the danger of the job was why they worked so well as partners. Bronn's face broke out into a large grin as Jaime crouched beside him. 

"Nice of you to drop by" he smirked "whatever took you so long?" 

"Just had an appointment with a brick wall, couldn't miss it" Jaime smirked back and ducked violently when a bullet sang through the air. Bronn let out a slow _fuck_ and his eyes went straight to his own weapon. 

"That's unexpected" Jaime remarked, pressing his back tighter to the bin and peering ever so carefully around the corner. It was too dark to see anything "I thought he was just armed with the machete, not a fucking gun. The machete would've been fine, but no the gods want me to work tonight" 

"I've no vest on, do you?" Bronn hissed at his golden haired partner. Jaime just shook his head. He never wore it unless there was some heist at a bank or some gangland crime spree they had to intercept. He hadn't thought chasing a machete wielding criminal would give him cause to wear his bullet proof vest. It always slowed him down anyways. 

"We go on three, yeah?" Jaime asked, green eyes searching for his partners in the dark.

"You've got my back?" Bronn smiled at him, eyes dancing with the impending adrenaline rush he was about to receive. 

"Always. One, two, three" 

It all happened so fast then, the ducking and tumbling and hiding behind whatever cover there was in the small street. Shop windows were blasted with bullets and in the distance Jaime could hear the sirens of the Kings Guard police department and he wished they would come quicker. The suspect was covered in black clothing, making it hard for Jaime to see but he spotted him in the distance as he made a brave move, appearing from behind his cover and running further down the street with his back completely exposed. Bronn missed the shot just as the suspect twirled around the corner. Jaime ran forward, feeling his partners gun protecting him as he did, but the suspects was quicker. 

He felt the bullet pierce him before he could even shoot back. It tore into his shoulder and he roared out a _fucking hell_ and ground his teeth in anger. Bronn shot back and Jaime saw the suspect clutch his leg. _Good one Bronn,_ Jaime wanted to tell him, _let's see him run away with a shot leg._ He disappeared around the corner again and Bronn rushed ahead of Jaime, shooting him a concerned look as he did. The Lannister just waved him off, giving him a signal to be careful. 

He vanished around the corner before Jaime did and there was more shooting. It was fascinating to Jaime that a situation like this was people's worst nightmare, yet he found himself in situations like this almost once every couple of months. It was his normality, his _life_. He'd been trained for this. But the situation that unfolded before his eyes next was something no training could have prepared him for. 

His gun was held up steady and strong despite the fact a bullet was lodged in his shoulder and he was bleeding all over the road. He held it up as he lightly ran and he had a clear shot, he was ready to take it when the sound of a revolver echoed throughout the night. Bronn fell then. Dead. 

"No!" Jaime roared and before he could stop himself his finger pulled the trigger. He saw his eyes before he dropped. Black and empty. Eyes filled with evil and it made Jaime shiver as the blond haired young man dropped to the ground, a bullet hole in his head and those black eyes open and wide. He left him there and ran to Bronn. 

He was already dead, the colour and life draining out of him as his body lay on the cobbled road. Jaime shook and shook him, roared his name and screamed at the sky but Bronn didn't wake up. His mouth didn't curve into a smirk while he punched Jaime in the arm. 

"Oh you soft sod" he would laugh, wiping tears from his eyes "you thought I was a goner. Oh wait until I tell Tyrion you cried over me. He'll laugh I can tell you that" 

He didn't get up. His eyes, just like the young man Jaime had killed, were open and wide. His chest was open and weeping with blood despite the fact his heart no longer beat. 

"I'm sorry" Jaime cried to him, his hands soaked with his partners blood but he didn't care. It wasn't like in the movies, Jaime thought bitterly, where the person dies in the others arms, choking out their last words and dying peacefully with their eyes closed. Bronn had just died. That was it. He had been shot and he had been dead before he had hit the wet road. 

The sound of sirens got closer and in the reflection of the puddle they lay in he could see the red and blue lights flashing. _You're too late_ , he wanted to scream at them, _you're too fucking late_. 

* * *

The stiff cardboard marker that Jaime aimed at wavered slightly as the bullet pierced it. He lowered his handgun and cursed loudly. The bullet had only hit it at the bottom corner, nowhere near where he should have gotten it. If that had been a real suspect then he would have been able to get away, the bullet skipping past his feet. His blond hair was pulled by his fingers as he threw the gun down on the ledge. He cursed a little as the pain ripped through his shoulder, the stiff bandage he wore underneath his clothes a constant reminder of the events he replayed in his nightmares. 

It had been two weeks since his partner had died but his guilt and grief had not died with him. Instead Jaime had been left with a heavy weight on his shoulders that he could not shake and the horrid pull that dragged him down was even worse now than when he had held Bronn's cold and bloodied body in his arms. The sickening and agonising blame that he had laid on himself was as fresh as the day he had helped carry Bronn's coffin to the cemetery. 

He had let his partner down, even worse still he had let his friend down. Bronn had died on his watch, and Jaime knew he would never forgive himself as long as he lived. He now had a wound that was open and bleeding and one he knew would never heal. This wound would not turn into a scar like all the others he had been inflicted with. No this was different, it would only fester and open with every step he took for the rest of his life. 

"DCI Lannister" he heard from behind him, the silky accent making him roll his eyes before he even straightened himself up to turn around. He knew who it was, and sure enough he was right, the face of his boss was gazing at him from the end of the stairwell. 

"Superintendent" Jaime quipped back, standing straight and folding his arms. The tanned man beckoned a finger as he turned around on the stairs. 

"A word. My office" his words were quick and to the point, just like the man himself, but there was no anger or malice in his voice. Jaime was sure that before he turned away he could see a flash of pity in his eyes. Jaime shirked away from the thought. He wanted no ones pity. It was his fault after all, he should be getting daggers thrown at him. 

He sighed a little as he checked that his gun was on safety and he tucked it back into his gun belt before following the Dornish man up the stairs. As they walked through the office Jaime couldn't help but let his eyes linger on Bronn's desk - Jaime's own sitting right behind it. On slow days when there was no crime worth chasing in the city they would try to catch up on paperwork- their hands aching from typing and signing their signatures all day long. This was the time that Jaime would roll up paper and chuck it at Bronn's head until the crude mouthed man would turn around and curse at him. Jaime always counted how many paper balls it took for Bronn to lose his shit. It was never more than five. 

Now however there sat a tall and lanky young detective who was in the process of fiddling with the cables at the back of his computer, desperately trying to turn it on. If this had of been different circumstances Jaime would have helped the young man and told him the senior detectives had unplugged it from the wall as a joke. But he didn't help him- he just kept walking. Jaime was sure Bronn hadn't even began rotting and they had replaced him already. 

The glass door shut behind him softly as they entered the office and Jaime almost fell into the soft leather chair that sat in front of the Superintendents desk.

Oberyn Martell was the kind of police officer that put people at ease, he had a stern yet gentle way about him and the way his soft brown eyes peered at people made them feel safe. Jaime had always had the opposite affect on people. Bronn used to say it was the fury in Jaime's eyes that managed to get so many confessions from hardened criminals. But Jaime felt like he was the one being investigated as Oberyn stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, the leather squeaking underneath him.  

"How have you been doing?" the dark haired man asked him, his arms folding atop the desk. Jaime let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, he snagged the deep graze on his head as he did and he winced slightly. He kept forgetting it was there and hadn't healed yet. Oberyn watched him carefully and there was that pity again swimming in his expression. _Great_ , Jaime thought, _he's called me in here for a therapy session._

"Great. Just great" Jaime replied with, his hands now coming to rest on his knees- squeezing hard. 

"Jaime look you can cut the bullshit, you don't need to pretend with me. You can crap on to the forces therapist but you can't to me alright? I know you, and I know you're not alright" 

He looked at the floor then and started to count the speckles in the blue carpet and tried to steady his heart rate. Why did he always get nervous when people asked about his feelings? Was he actually afraid someone would find out he had them? That the hardened Detective Chief Inspector had a heart? 

Whenever a trauma happened in the forces that another police officer witnessed, it was the police therapists job to swoop in and save that said officer from having a mental breakdown. So far Jaime had made a pretty good job of avoiding his meetings. He had gone once since Bronn had died and had bullshitted the whole hour he was there. _I'm fine_ , he had kept saying, _just another part of the job. **I'm fine**_. Melisandre was a nice woman, a bit intense maybe with her cognitive therapy crap, but she was only trying to help and Jaime understood that. But he wasn't ready to talk about how he felt. For now staring at his dark apartment wall and drinking straight whiskey was the only therapy he needed. 

 "Look boss, I appreciate the concern but I don't need anyone to help me, alright? Especially someone who goes on about finding your inner peace and dealing with your grief by meditating. I'm fucking fine" Jaime shrugged to show he _was_ fine but winced a little when he did. His shoulder grew stiff. 

"Jaime you're not fine. You sustained an injury in the line of duty, your partner was shot and killed, you buried not only a colleague but a friend and yet you've refused to take any personal time off and you've only attended one of your ten required therapy sessions" Oberyn sat up straight now, his eyes hard on Jaime. 

"It's the job" Jaime answered with, his eyes going to his hands. He had gotten shot in the shoulder but it had affected his ulnar nerve in his hand, making it hard for him to make a fist or hold his gun properly. It's why he was such a bad shot now. He'd once been the best marksman in all the Kingsgaurd but now he couldn't even shoot a fucking cardboard target. It had only been two weeks but he was impatient to get his hand back to normal, he could barely even open a door handle with it without there being pain. The nurse had said it could take up to a year to return to normal. Jaime wasn't going to wait a year. 

"No Jaime, it's not the job. This job isn't about dying, or getting shot and injured. This job is about helping and protecting the people we serve, that's the job. Your partner getting killed is not your job, that was an unfortunate tragedy that you need to own up to and work through. You can't carry it all alone, Jaime. You need someone to help you" 

"I don't want help" his answer was short but he said it with such conviction that even Jaime himself almost believed it. 

Oberyn put his head in his hands for a minute and Jaime could tell by the way his shoulders sagged that what was to come next would not be something Jaime would want to hear. 

"You've been an officer on this force for nearly fifteen years now, and you've been my friend for longer. But I am Superintendent and I need to make decisions that I feel work best for this department" 

So Jaime had been right. It was something Jaime didn't want to hear. Some juvenile part of himself wanted to jump from the leather chair and run out of the office, slamming the door behind him. But he just sat there, silent and unmoving for a minute before he spoke. 

"Are you putting me on leave?" he asked his boss, green eyes narrowing as they peered into brown. 

"Jaime, I'm offering you an early retirement. You'll be honourably let go, you'll receive a star for bravery in the line of duty, your picture proudly hung on the wall and a pension that you'll receive like a pay cheque every week. It's more than most of the men get in here" the Superintendent spoke, his words completely flooring Jaime. He'd only turned forty last year for Christ's sake. How could he _retire_? Never. 

"I'm not fucking retiring, are you nuts? I didn't train for almost a decade to retire before I'm even fifty. No, no way. Forget it" he shook his mane of blond hair rather vigourously and Oberyn just sighed as he sat back in his chair. 

"I thought you might say that. So I came up with a second solution" 

"Seven hells! Why does there have to be a solution? Why can't I stay here, I'm the best detective on this floor Oberyn, you know I am" 

"You can't shoot anymore, and you're not mentally stable. How am I going to put you out in the field with my men when you're like that, huh? I can't take that risk, and I know they said you could get your hand working normal again in a year but I can't take that chance. I need my officers in the right mind frame for this" he closed his eyes slightly at the end, like he was awaiting a blow to the head or for Jaime to unleash all his anger at him. Jaime just ground his teeth together as he tried to think logically. He knew Oberyn was right, if there was another guy on the force with an injury like his and fresh trauma in his head he knew he'd be going to Oberyn himself and demanding for the guy to be removed. 

"What's the fucking solution?" Jaime gritted out, his good hand balling into a fist while the other just sat there limply- the fingers half curling. 

"Dorne" Oberyn said with a faint smile. 

"Dorne?" Jaime repeated with a cocked eyebrow "is this your way of telling me to slip quietly into the night?" 

"No jokes Jaime, please" his boss held up an impatient hand "I'm telling you that there's a position down there, for Sergeant. Barristan Selmy has just retired and you know I have connections down there that can assure me you have the position. All you have to do is say yes. You'll have a house and a high position down there, a good income each week, probably the same you make here in a high risk city. Salt Shore is nice, a small little fishing community by the sea. Very peaceful" 

Jaime didn't answer him so Oberyn continued. 

"Listen Jaime, we're not getting any younger and this job isn't getting any easier. Just think about it, alright? A transfer could be good for you, it might help you heal better than you will living here. There's low crime there, it might be nice to not be in a shoot out every other week. Just think about it" 

"Yeah" Jaime answered him, his head swirling from the whole conversation "I'll think about it" 

 

 

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

The hallway was dark as she stumbled down it, her shaking fingers clasping the open wound that now spilled blood all over the floor. Her side had been pierced by the knife, deep and jagged, and she found that each step she took was more laborious than the next with the way her skin was splitting apart. Ramsay had flung at her before she could even defend herself, and even as the kitchen knife punctured her side she still denied he had done anything. _He didn't stab me_ , she kept telling herself, _he wouldn't **really** stab me_. But the shock had left her system quickly when he had ran down the hallway to their daughters bedroom. 

Sansa had heard the screams then. 

"Ramsay, please don't hurt her" she kept calling out as she grabbed the wall for support. But her voice was weak, quiet, and she knew he couldn't hear her. She knew deep down she was too late. 

The light of the moon was shining into Lyanna's bedroom and it spilled onto the bed where her daughter lay. For one naïve second she believed her daughter was asleep, tucked under her princess bedcovers without a care in the world. But the menacing shadow that was suddenly cast over her made her look again. 

There was blood staining the sheets. It was _everywhere_. 

"Lyanna!" Sansa screamed, trying desperately in her injured state to reach her daughter but a hand grabbed her around the throat before she could. His dark eyes peered down at her as he shoved her hard against the wall- the wound in Sansa's side screaming as it tore even more. Her eyes frantically tried to look past his shoulder and see her daughter, to see if she was moving or breathing. _No_ , she scolded herself, _she's alive. She **has** to be alive. _

She saw the flash of silver glint with the moonlight and her heart thumped against her chest as he rose the knife high in the air. She desperately struggled against him but her legs and arms felt like lead. 

 _Please don't_ , she kept thinking, _please don't kill me_. But it was too late.

"Goodnight sweetheart" the menacing drip of Ramsay's voice was in her ear and then it all went dark. 

* * *

 Her eyes flitted open and her hands went straight to her side as she jolted up from the bed- her heart hammering a thousand beats a second. Sansa was sweating, she could feel it through the pyjama top Marg had let her borrow and she was sure she had soaked through the sheets. She checked herself over again and her heart began to steady itself when she realised she was in fact not stabbed and it had all been a dream. 

"Mama" came a croaky voice behind her and she whirled around in the bed to eye the curly haired bundle underneath the sheets. 

"Oh Lyanna" she breathed out, lying back down beside her daughter and bringing her close. She smelt of the coconut shampoo Margaery had used to wash her hair and Sansa breathed her in as she tried to calm herself down. She kept trying to convince herself that she was safe, but when the morning breeze blew a branch against the window she jumped, her eyes flitting straight to it and half expecting to see the shadow of the man she had run from. 

They weren't truly safe. Perhaps they never would be. 

"Are you crying?" small hands came to Sansa's cheeks to wipe away the tears that Sansa hadn't even realised she had been shedding. Her own hands came to her face and she sighed when she felt the wet patches on her cheeks. God she was weak. 

"No baby I'm not crying" she shook her head at her daughter, watching as Lyanna's green eyes scanned her mothers face.

"Something in mama's eyes?" at that Sansa wanted to cry even more. There had been countless times when Lyanna had caught her mother crying. In the kitchen, in the bathroom, on the edge of the bed after Ramsay had thrown her down and had his way. Each and every time she had lied and told her she had something in her eye. 

"Yeah baby girl, I've something in my eye" Sansa smiled at her daughter as her pouty lips came together and blew- something Sansa did whenever Lyanna really did get something in her eye. 

"Mama better?" 

"Yeah, mama's all better" she placed a kiss to the top of her head and her daughter slid her arms around Sansa's neck as she snuggled down under the covers of Margaery and Robb's spare bed. They had been too kind to her, considering the fact that she had nearly kicked their door down in her terrified state. Ever since she had taken refuge here the night before they had made her endless cups of tea, Margaery had stitched and cleaned her arm and they'd given them a bed.

Sansa felt somewhat guilty for the whole situation. She hadn't talked to Robb or his wife in months, almost a year, and here she was hiding out in their house. For all she knew Ramsay could be outside, hiding in the bushes, waiting for her. She couldn't bring this upon her brother or his children. _How could she have been so selfish?_

She had always put her family's feelings second. She hadn't seen her mother since Lyanna was born, only every once in a while through a Skype call and she always put off travelling up to Wintertown to see her. Arya sent a postcard from each place she visited in Essos- Sansa had kept them all in a little box in a desk back home. She often took them out and reread them over and over again, crying over how much she missed her. Robb was the one who lived the closest, him and their cousin Jon, but even then Sansa hadn't made any effort to visit and after a while they both stopped making any effort too. 

Robb had actually cried last night after they had put Lyanna to bed. They had sat on the couch by the fire and he had wept like a child. 

"I knew he was controlling, but if I knew he was doing _this_ " he had said, gesturing to her bandaged arm "if I knew he was hurting you I would've came and got you out" 

"It's not your fault, Robb. You didn't know" 

She vowed then never to tell him how his wife had known, only because she had seen Sansa in the emergency room late one night during her shift. She had begged her, _begged_ her not to tell anyone. _It was only the once_ , she had told her as Margaery wrapped her swollen wrist. _He'll end up killing you Sansa_ , Margaery had told her, _you have to be careful_. 

That was the last time Sansa had gone to that hospital. 

She lay in the bed now, listening to Lyanna snoring again and her thoughts berated her as she tried to focus on the soft sound. She had put everyone in a horrible situation. She had made Margaery lie to her own husband about the reality of Sansa's relationship, and now she had made her brother feel guilty for not knowing how bad it had been all along. 

Ramsay was right. She was a horrible person. 

She knew then as she lay under the covers that she couldn't stay here. She couldn't allow her family to become victims to Ramsay's rage when he finally found her. 

* * *

"Mama look at me!" Sansa heard as she stood at the kitchen counter. She let her eyes travel over to where her daughter stood in the conservatory with her cousins. She held a wand in one hand and she was dressed in a puffy pink princess dress. Sansa allowed herself to smile as she eyed the leggings underneath. They belonged to Olenna and they were too long for her smaller cousin- Sansa had rolled them up almost three times and they were now bunched up around the ankles. The sweater she wore underneath the princess dress was too big too. 

If it had of been under different circumstances then it would have been funny. But Sansa wasn't in a funny mood, she was too grateful to laugh. Margaery had let Sansa borrow some of her clothes too, but they fit a little better than Lyanna's did. 

"How're you feeling?" Robb asked her from where he sat at the kitchen island, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand and the other turning the pages of the paper. He reminded her of their father then despite the fact he looked more like their mother. But it was the way he sat, the way he squinted his eyes as he read the finely printed articles that made her think of the way her father was. He suited being a father, she thought, Ned would have been proud to see it. 

"I'm good. I know you told me not to say thank you again, but seriously thank you" she told her brother. He looked up at her then and she noticed the bags under his eyes, the red rims swallowing the blue. He must have been crying all night. She felt that stab of guilt rise up in her heart again. 

"Sansa, I told you. You're my sister and I'd do anything for you" he smiled at her "you can stay here as long as you want" 

"That's the thing, Robb. I _can't_ stay here" once the words had left her mouth her brother stiffened from where he sat. The only sounds were the children playing and the dripping of the coffee machine, neither of them spoke for a minute. 

"What do you mean? Of course you can, it's no trouble Sans. Marg and I don't mind how long you stay for" Robb told her, shaking her words off with a hand. 

"I know you don't" she took a step closer to him and leaned her side against the island "but you don't know what he's like, how angry he can get. When he finds out I'm here -" 

" _If_ he finds out" her brother tried to reassure her but Sansa shook her head. 

"It's a matter of when, Robb. There's not many places I could have gone. He'll check everywhere for me I know he will and he won't stop until he gets us. I can't be here and let you or Margaery get hurt or the kids. I _can't_ " Sansa desperately told him, and all Robb did for a moment was stare at her.

"We'll go to the police station today, alright? We'll make a complaint, get a restraining order" he was being what he thought was logical, but it wasn't like that in reality. Robb didn't know Ramsay the way Sansa did. She knew a mere restraining order was just a bit of paper to men like Ramsay Bolton. 

"That's not going to stop him" she shook her head and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Her arm stung as she did and she could feel the wound weeping beneath the bandages "I never once went to the police with complaints so they'll have nothing on file. Ramsay knows that so he'll twist it around and say _I_ attacked _him_ and I took our daughter away from him. I'll be the bad one and what if he gets custody of her? What happens then?" 

She looked over at where her daughter was playing with Olenna and Eddard. They now had nurses costumes on and Margaery was kneeling on the ground, giggling as the three of them poked her pregnant tummy. Her sister in law looked content and happy. She had a lovely home and a husband who loved and adored her. Sansa wondered what that must be like. She wanted that in her future, but she couldn't do that with a Bolton's shadow looming over her. She imagined then losing her daughter to that monster. She imagined being brought to court on assault charges and her daughter being taken away from her. 

He must have saw the hurt and desperation in her eyes because Robb nodded after a minute of deep thought.  

"I know a place you can go, but it'll only be safe for you if you haven't told him about it" he told her and Sansa waited for him to continue "when dad died mum gave me the keys to the old beach house, said I could use it to bring the kids down there just like dad used to do with us. I haven't been down there at all since, it was too painful to go near it so I just left it there. It probably is a bit dusty or whatever but it's yours if you want it" 

 _The old beach house_. A thousand memories swarmed in her head at the mention of it and she found she had to almost steady herself against the counter. The Starks had gone to Salt Shore in Dorne almost every summer vacation, and it had always been the best fun as a family. Her dad had brought them fishing near the pier and her mom had brought Sansa for lemon cakes in the café and had let Arya wander the stalls of the old antique store. They had brought Jon with them all the time and their Aunt Lyanna. Her beautiful Aunt Lyanna, she sighed as she remembered her and thought of the last summer they had spent there before her aunt had died from illness. 

They hadn't vacationed there since Sansa was fourteen. That was ten years ago. 

"I never told anyone about it, not even Ramsay" she croaked out after a minute and Robb's shoulders relaxed a little in relief.

"Good. We can go there for a couple weeks until you're ready to go to the police" 

If he wasn't being so supportive to her, or if this had been a different situation she would have smacked him over the head and said something along the lines of " _For a History teacher you're pretty dense_ ". But she didn't, she just sighed. 

"No, you can't come with me. If I'm to do this, if I'm to disappear then you can't be involved" Sansa told him and she watched as her brothers blue eyes wavered away from her face and to the window. He stared out of it for a minute, perhaps thinking of what to say next or looking for help somewhere in the clouds. 

"Calling Jon and going to kill Ramsay seems like the best option to me" he sounded angry because he was genuinely furious, but Sansa knew deep down he didn't mean it. Robb knew murder wasn't going to solve this situation. 

"You know she hasn't asked for him once" Sansa decides to say, her eyes once again looking for her daughter "I don't even think she realises he's her dad, you know? She never called him daddy, not once. He wasn't really a dad to her anyway, he didn't ever change a nappy or do a late night feed. I don't think he ever cuddled her. She was terrified of him, she'd start to shake whenever he'd come home drunk or start pushing me around. I used to tell her to go into her room and play, but she still heard everything" 

"Sansa....." Robb began quietly, his head going to his hands and Sansa squeezed his shoulder a little to let him know that it was okay. 

"I want to do this for her. To give my daughter a better life" she told her brother "that's why I have to do this, and I have to do it right. I can't risk you getting hurt or anyone else. You have to let us go" 

* * *

The bus station was crowded with people trying to bustle to the long lines for tickets and there was a group of Dornish tourists who were packed into the tiny station coffee shop while their tour guide waved his information booklet around, desperately trying to organise the large group. It was chaotic and there was so many people that Sansa felt her anxiety levels sky rocket. Each time someone bumped into her she turned quickly to see if it was _him_. Every dark haired person was him until she could see otherwise. She held Lyanna tight to her chest, her daughters arms wrapped around her neck and her face that was half covered by a baseball cap was bowed down, just like Sansa had told her. 

Sansa herself wore a similar cap and she kept making sure she didn't look up too much in case someone would recognise her. She had cut her hair in Margaery's bathroom and instead of tickling her lower back it now rested near her shoulder blades. She hadn't been brave enough to commit to changing the colour but she hoped chopping off the long locks Ramsay used to love would be enough to disguise her. 

Robb had left her outside the station, and had still protested to bringing her all the way in. She'd managed to convince him that if anyone saw or recognised him then the whole plan would fall apart. He was after all, recognised in this area of the community since he worked in the local school. He had cried while he had hugged her goodbye, and for a moment Sansa thought he'd never let her go. 

"I love you, Sansa" he told her as he finally released his hold on her "you'll let us know somehow when you're safe?" 

"Of course I will, and thank you for everything. You'll let Marg know I'm grateful?" she asked him and he nodded despite the fact she had given her thanks back at the house before she left. 

"Take care of yourself" Robb told her and she couldn't help herself from hugging him once more.

"I love you" she let him know as she held him close. 

He let her go then, that look of regret and sadness in his eyes and in his head he wondered if he was doing the right thing. But the look was gone from his eyes in an instant when he decided to smile at Lyanna, ruffling her hair a little and giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

 "Love you both" Robb told them and somehow he managed to muster up the strength to turn around after one last wave. He walked towards his car and Sansa knew he was probably wrestling with himself to not look back. But Sansa didn't wait to find out if he ever did, she turned around with her bag on her back (the one Marg had packed for her) and held Lyanna tight to her chest. 

"Next please" she heard and she snapped out of her reverie, moving forward to the window where a kind faced woman sat. She eyed Sansa a little and her eyes raked over Lyanna from where she sat on Sansa's hip. 

"Where you heading to, love?" she asked Sansa and before answering she checked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was able to hear her. 

"Salt Shore" her voice was meek but the woman heard her, nodding her head as she typed something on the computer. 

"When are you returning?" 

"I'm not" Sansa shook her head, holding Lyanna close to her side "two one way tickets please" 

The woman had a flicker of something come over her face but it was gone when she looked back at her computer and began printing the tickets. She probably saw a lot of young runaways every day. She handed Sansa the tickets and her change back through the little slot in the window and Sansa smiled gratefully as she tucked them into her purse. On her way to the station she had stopped at the bank and made a withdrawal, it had only been a small amount but it would be enough for food and some new clothes until Sansa could find work. 

The bus was departing shortly but as Sansa clambered on there was only a few people seated and she headed straight for the empty seats at the back. She let Lyanna sit beside the window and she sat tightly beside her on the other seat, constantly peering at the bus door every time a new person walked on. She had an awful image in her head of Ramsay getting on and dragging her and Lyanna away. 

"Mama where's bunny?" her daughters voice came from beside her and she looked down at her to see those green eyes looking back at her. She felt her heart plummet to think that the reality of the situation was that she had pulled her daughter from everything she had known. She'd miss her princess bedroom and all her toys, her bunny especially. She'd miss going to preschool while her mama worked and baking cookies at the weekend. But Sansa swallowed down a hard lump in her throat as she told herself that her daughter would not miss hearing her mama cry, or wondering why she had a bruise on her face or arm. She wouldn't miss hearing Ramsay curse and scream late at night. 

"Bunny is gone, baby" she told her as her shaking hand came to play with one of Lyanna's red curls that hung past her shoulders. 

"I want my bunny" her eyes were filling with tears and Sansa felt like crying too but she just leaned over and kissed her daughter. It was then she realised the bus was starting to move. 

"I know you do, but we can get you another bunny when we get to where we're going" she reassured her as they began to pull out of the bus parking lot. The bus was now full up, Sansa could see that as she peered over the headrest of the chair in front of her. It was full of chattering people, but none of them were Ramsay Bolton. She relaxed just a little. 

"Where we going, mama?" Lyanna asked her, eyes wide with childish curiosity. Sansa looked out the window and saw the buildings of the city zip by. Soon enough the suburbs and skyscrapers would be replaced by tiny houses and beaches. 

"A better place" she decided to answer with "a much better place" 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys hope you like the story so far! I'd appreciate some feedback thank you


	4. Chapter 4

The police station was small and stuffy- the kind of space that smelt of printing ink and marker dye. There was also an undeniable aroma of stale coffee and as Jaime eyed the many abandoned cups on the desks that were slowly forming rings of mould at the top he guessed that was why. There was a total of four police officers working here- five including himself now that he was Sergeant. 

He'd been in Dorne for almost two weeks now and he honestly ached for the city. He wanted the noise back, and the smell of engine fuel and takeaways. It always smelled of sea water here and there was hardly ever any noise, save for the echoing waves that crashed against the jagged cliffs down by the beach. Jaime had taken up the habit of jogging along the sandy shores each evening. He hated to admit it to himself but he actually enjoyed it. It beat jogging in the city's park that was always full of children and homeless people that slept on the benches. 

Salt Shore wasn't so bad. It was peaceful and quiet, just like Oberyn had said it would be, and his house was quite accommodating- small maybe but he didn't need much room. The people he worked with weren't bad either but Jaime guessed none of them had ever seen any real action. Not like he had seen back in Kings Landing. They were friendly however, albeit a bit lazy, but nice nonetheless and they had made Jaime feel welcome as Sergeant despite the fact he was an outsider. 

Brienne sat at her desk, tall and hulky and she nodded curtly as Sergeant Lannister walked into the station. He waved back with a smile as he entered his office and hung his jacket up. Brienne was a nice woman, someone who should have worked in the narcotics unit back in Kings Landing, not here in a place people came to when they wanted to retire from the world. She was dutiful and _tidy_ , at least her desk was organised. 

Jaime hadn't sat down at his desk a second and the departments junior officer followed him in. Jaime's eyes went straight to the glass door when he heard a knock on it and had to suppress a sigh as he eyed the dark haired boy behind it. He beckoned for him to come in and those jolly cheeks of his rose into a smile as he opened the door back and walked in. 

"Mornin' boss" the chirpy voice greeted him. 

"Morning Podrick" Jaime replied with, noticing the boy leaning back on his feet. It was a nervous habit of the boys that Jaime had noticed the very first day he had come here, and each and every time he and Podrick conversed (which was very little) he began to do it. Jaime didn't like the way Podrick looked at him, like he was some kind of hero. He was far from it. 

"So we just got a call" the young police man said, his eyes looking down at the clip board he held in his hands and Jaime sat up straight, his interest suddenly piqued. 

"We did?" Jaime asked and Podrick nodded. 

"Old Nan rang and said someone plucked her peonies from her garden. She's really upset about it" his words made Jaime's heart plummet. There was no real crime in this place at all, and though he didn't condone crime whatsoever he used to be good at stopping it. What was his purpose now that he had no bank robberies to intercept or murders to solve? He had been reduced to someone who got caught up in the dangerous business of peony thieves. 

"So this woman does she have a name?" Jaime sighed, looking around his desk for a pen. 

"Old Nan" Podrick replied with and Jaime had to hold himself from rolling his eyes and letting out a huge sigh of annoyance from his mouth. 

"I'm almost one hundred percent sure she wasn't born with that name. I meant her real one" the Sergeant spoke through half gritted teeth. Podrick stood stupidly in the one spot for a minute, holding the clip board and making a face that made Jaime assume he was thinking really really hard. 

"Uh I dunno" was his genius answer and Jaime leaned back in his chair, wishing he had a window in his office to stare out of. 

"Right, tell this Old Nan person that I'll walk over and take a statement later on. Right now I've a massive job I need you to do for me" 

"You do?" Podrick seemed to perk up at that suggestion, his chest puffing out a little. 

"Yeah. I need you to clean your desk" 

* * *

"So they were there when I went to bed and now they're gone. And to think I planted them myself and everything, nearly broke my back bending down so I did. Mind you I was told by my doctor to take it easy with the gardening since my backs not what it used to be, you know what happens when you get to my age! But I enjoy my gardening because -" 

"So you went to bed and you woke up and your flowers were gone?" Jaime interrupted the old woman, making a spectacle of tapping his pen off his notebook and scanning the page with his eyes despite the fact he had not actually written one word down. He was sure he hadn't even been listening to her properly "do you have any idea who would have taken your flowers?" 

"Oh no! Not anyone around here, they're all lovely people. Except for those teenagers always littering around down near the beach" she told him, beady little eyes looking down the road and to the beach in the near distance. 

"Officer Tarth and I will walk around town, ask around in case anyone saw anything" Jaime told her even though he had no real intention of doing so.

The sun was almost setting in the sky now and he just wanted to go home and lie on his bed, maybe stare at the ceiling and contemplate exactly how he had ended up in this situation. He had relived the same day over and over again for the last two weeks. This whole town seemed to come with its own monotonous routine. He had spent the day sitting at his desk, being nosy and reading over old files- he'd discovered that Salt Shore hadn't had a murder in almost five decades and had never been the setting for a high speed chase. Then he'd made coffee in the break room and chatted to Brienne for a while, pretending to care about the argument her and her husband had had that morning. He'd then gone for lunch and after that was over he had come back to the station to repeat the same process. Now he was here, listening to an ancient woman natter on about her back problems and her fucking flowers.

 _I bet Bronn is laughing at me right now,_ Jaime thought, _I could only imagine the things he'd say._  

_Look at you! You unlucky bastard!_

"Hey boss!" he heard from the side of the house, and his eyes jumped from his notebook to the tall woman who now stood with a limp bunch of peonies in her hand "found them in the dog kennel Nan. Looks like the culprit was your husky" 

He face palmed. **_Hard_**. Seven fucking hells. What had his life become? 

* * *

 "So you never did tell me how you ended up here" Brienne asked him as they walked down the pathway. The evening sky hung above them, an array of orange and bright purple and as they walked Jaime stared in a little bit of awe. They never got skies like that in the city, it was always full of smog.

 _My Superintendent made me,_ he wanted to tell her, _it was either this or retire._

"Needed a change of scenery" was the answer he gave her instead and she smiled a little, although there was something in her eyes that made him believe she didn't accept his answer. 

"Yeah it's a nice place to live, and work" Brienne added, her fingers combing through a cherry blossom that was hanging above their heads as they walked by. She was tall enough to reach it. She was as tall as Jaime. 

"Yeah it's nice. A big change from the city though" he remarked as his green eyes scanned his surroundings. The path they were on was winding more into a wooded area, nothing like a forest but green and swooping trees covered some of the little houses along the way. At the end of the path was just another entrance to the beach and from here Jaime could hear the rushing of the waves down at the cove. It was peaceful, he guessed, it just didn't make him feel  _at peace_. He'd be at peace strapping on a bullet proof vest and loading up his gun, that all too familiar feeling of adrenaline rushing through his veins. But he wasn't doing those things. He was here, and he couldn't change that. 

"You've seen a lot of action then?" Brienne asked him as they turned the corner. Jaime stopped walking then once they reached his cottage- it was modern enough- painted white and with a pleasant picket fence around the front. It wasn't like the house just diagonal from his across the road which had ivy growing on the outer walls and had knee high grass covering the lawn. He could see its porch light on and he furrowed his brow. That's strange, he thought, as far as he knew there had been no one living in it the two weeks he'd been here. 

"Ugh yeah I saw a good bit of it in my time" Jaime looked away from the neighbouring cottage and back to Brienne. _Probably won't be seeing any ever again_ , he thought bitterly "I worked with homicide mostly, but I assisted on other things like kidnappings and bomb scares. That kind of thing" 

"I was a narc" Brienne began to tell him, her blue eyes looking past his shoulder and down to the shore that was visible through the gap in the trees. _I fucking knew it_ , Jaime thought. 

"No way! And you work here now. What made you?" Jaime asked her, folding his arms. He was genuinely intrigued now that he knew he wasn't the only one in the Salt Shore police force with a decent career background. 

"My partner was stabbed" her words were a blow to him and he found himself wobbling a little where he stood. He thought of Bronn and _that_ night and wished he could scrub the image of his open dead eyes from his mind forever. "His name was Renly and he was probably the kindest person I've ever met. Such a great guy. But we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and I couldn't save him" 

"I'm so sorry" Jaime told her, that blasted hand of his that had little to no feeling twitching ghostly under the skin. It was a constant reminder of that night and his shoulder started aching at the memory. He wore a brace and a bandage under his clothes, as per request of the Kings Landing doctor he had visited before he left. The wound was almost a scar now, but his hand still wasn't the same. It didn't matter anyway. He wasn't going to be using his hand for shooting anytime soon. 

"It's alright, it happened a long time ago. I met my husband then, Tormund, he's a fisherman you know so we moved down here. The rest is history" she had a way about her that was undeniably serious but she also had the friendliest smile. Renly, whoever he had been, would probably look down at her and be proud that she could carry on working and being _happy_. He was afraid that Bronn wouldn't be able to say the same. Jaime was miserable and drank whisky by himself every night to numb the pain and nightmares. 

In the back of his mind he felt vaguely guilty for not being honest with her at the start since she was being honest with him. But he wasn't about to share his story. 

"Speaking of my husband I better get back to him before he calls a search party" she gave him one of those warm smiles again and turned around. 

"Hey Brienne!" Jaime called after her just as she was halfway down the path.

"Yeah?" 

"You don't know who lives in that house?" Jaime beckoned to the one across the road "it's just so strange I've never seen a light on until now" 

"Word in town says it's some new girl. Just moved in today" his new partner replied to him, and Jaime nodded in satisfaction of the answer. At least he now knew it wasn't some bunch of reckless teenagers who wanted to trash the place or a drifter who was using it as lodgings for the night. He waved Brienne off then and she turned around once more to disappear in the dark. 

 _So I have a neighbour_ , Jaime thought as he walked up the porch steps to his house. _Hopefully she won't ring to complain about fucking peonies_. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The bed was soaked with sweat again as Sansa jerked awake- this time her hands flew to the covers of the bed to check that her daughter still slept soundly behind her. Ramsay had materialised himself from the shadows that stalked her dreams, and this time in her dream he had taken Lyanna. 

She wasn't gone however, a fact Sansa found was proven as she cast her eyes down. Her baby was tucked up under the ivory bedsheet, her thumb in her mouth and her hand clutched around the blanket the same way she used to hold her bunny. Sansa relaxed instantly at the sight of her and wished for the day when she could wake up normally without a thumping heart and a mind full of haunting memories. She _wished_ for that day. 

She looked around her surroundings and pulled the covers close to her chest as she tried to focus on steadying her heartbeat. She knew in her mind that she was safe, at least for now, but her body still seemed to be reeling from its nightmare. She wondered how many days would pass before she could have a normal nights sleep. She couldn't fall back asleep now, she knew, so she pulled herself out of the bed being ever so careful not to wake Lyanna. It had taken her almost the whole night to get her to sleep, it was well past two in the morning before Sansa heard her snore softly. It was that damn bunny, she thought, that was the reason she couldn't sleep. Why hadn't she just turned back around for it that night she had run? 

She sighed to herself as she threw on a hoodie (one that Robb had given her before she left) and looked back at Lyanna who was now starting to suck the thumb she had shoved in her mouth. Her heart was at war with itself due to the situation she found herself in. She felt relief for finally being away from such an abusive person, but at the same time she felt utter guilt at the sheer reality that she had basically run away with her own daughter. She had been well adjusted at her preschool back home, and although she had witnessed her dad throwing her mum around she was still happy and carefree all the time. What if this move, this change affected her badly? What if deep down she missed her daddy? 

Sansa knew there was a low chance of that however. Lyanna had never called Ramsay daddy and probably didn't associate him with the role because he had never been a father to her. He'd never picked her up and swung her around like Ned had done with Sansa. He'd never called her princess or bandaged her knee when she fell, kissing her tears away and promising her a lemon cake for being a brave girl. Ned had done all that for Sansa. He had cared for her and protected her and Sansa would be forever grateful for having a dad like that. 

Lyanna never had that. Perhaps she never would. 

She felt like a bad mother then as she stood looking down at her daughter sleeping, her head filled with the thought that her daughter might never get the chance to have a real father. It would always be just her and her mama. 

She left her daughter then, creeping out of the room and making sure the old wooden floor didn't creak. It seemed like this whole house creaked, especially during the night when the soft winds from the beach rolled their way across the sands and tapped against the houses windows. They had only arrived yesterday, late during the evening and as soon as Sansa had stepped through the door a thousand memories had come flooding back. 

The house looked somewhat chaotic on the outside, with small arms of ivy crawling their way up the wood of the house and the front lawn was like a wilderness with grass that grew almost to Lyanna's hip. But inside it looked the very same way it had been the last time Sansa had been here. It had seemed so small whenever the Starks had gathered here for a holiday, but now that Sansa and her small daughter were here it seemed rather big with its three bedrooms and kitchen living area. Her mother had decorated it with dark Persian rugs and a brown leather couch that had been big enough to seat almost all of the Stark children during movie nights. The walls were decorated with numerous photo frames that contained images of people Sansa desperately missed. 

There were large book shelves in the corners, stacked full of books Sansa was sure no one but her had ever touched. She had often taken a copy of some classic and had wandered down to the beach where she'd lose herself for a couple of hours within its pages. 

She walked past a picture that held the immortal image of her and her father fishing- both their smiles big despite the fact Sansa had hated fishing. She'd rarely ever gone down to the pier to fish with him, it had been a past time of the boys and Arya's that they had shared with their father. Perhaps that's why a photo had been taken of her and Ned- to capture the rare moment. As she stared at it she felt a lump in her throat as she thought of how much she wished he was still here. 

Perhaps things would have been different. Maybe with her father's support she would have found the courage to leave Ramsay years ago. But then she wouldn't have Lyanna, and she would never regret her beautiful girl no matter who her father was. She just wished her father could have met his granddaughter. She decided then to tear herself away from the spot she stood in and let her eyes leave the picture of her twelve year old self and her father. Her head seemed crammed with thoughts that lead to no answers and she thought fresh air might solve them as she walked to the door. 

It was mild outside, the air thick with that Dornish heat that never seemed to relinquish even this early in the morning. The sky was that purple colour Sansa loved to admire, with the horizon painted in a burnt orange as the sun rose. She had worn shorts to bed and the long grass tickled her skin as she walked down the front lawn to the small picket fence that surrounded the beach house. If she looked to the side she could make out the blue colour of the waves that rolled themselves gracefully within the sea and the golden hue of the sand. The air smelt of salt and seaweed, the undeniable smell of Salt Shore and her eyes closed for a minute as she tried to listen to the rush of the sea down by the cove. 

It was so peaceful here, it always had been. There had never been any wild youths hanging around or sounds of sirens in this small part of the world as far as Sansa could remember, and even the Stark children had been able to become peaceful children during the summers here. _There's something in the air_ , her mother would say, _that clears ones soul down here._  

 _I hope so_ , Sansa thought as she opened her eyes again. 

She noticed then the house that was diagonal to hers and the man that now made his way down his front porch to the mail box that rested at the end of his lawn. She knew when she came here that she would have neighbours, but the sight of someone so close startled her. He was tall, she noticed first, with that blonde sort of hair that would lighten naturally in a place like this. He was dressed in a grey tshirt and shorts and kept checking his watch every few seconds. 

He looked at her then and she felt anxious for no reason right away. She didn't want anyone to look at her too long in case someone would recognise her. An impossibility, she thought, she hadn't been here since she was fourteen and as far as she remembered an elderly couple had owned that house before. 

"Morning" the man said, a smile that didn't reach his eyes coming over his face. She just waved meekly back at him and hoped he didn't pick up on how nervous she was all of a sudden. She had always hated talking to people, men especially. Ramsay had made her that way. 

She turned away then and walked back to the house, letting out a held breath as soon as she was inside. 

"Mama" she heard as she closed the door behind her and she jumped a little in fright at the unexpected voice. Lyanna was standing in the middle of the living room with her tired eyes half open and her hair looking like a complete mess of curls. Sansa noticed then that she had been crying. 

"Baby are you okay?" Sansa asked her as she walked to where she stood, swooping her up in her arms. 

"You were gone" she sniffled and Sansa's heart sank a little at the sight of her daughters green eyes filling with more tears. 

"Oh no I wasn't gone. I went outside just for one minute but I'm back now, okay? Don't cry" Sansa shushed her as she walked over and set her down on the kitchen island. She held her small face in between her hands and brushed away the tears that were now wetting her cheeks. She'd always hated seeing Lyanna cry, it made her heart feel as if it would break. She picked her up in her arms once more and held her close to her chest as she rocked her back and forth. She could feel her tremors ease as she was comforted by Sansa's soft kisses to the top of her head and the gentle back rubs. 

"All better?" Sansa asked her softly- she could feel the tickle of her red curls against her skin as she nodded her head in the rook of Sansa's neck. 

"All better" Lyanna repeated and with that Sansa smiled, feeling she had accomplished the task of preventing a full on hyperventilation. 

"How about you and I get dressed and go for a walk on the beach, and after we can go get some pancakes at the diner in town. How does that sound?" 

It was amazing how in that instant her daughters eyes lit up, all the tears seemed to vanish and she replaced her frown with a smile. She nodded in response and Sansa beamed at her. Perhaps today could be a good day. The first one in a long time.

* * *

The beach was long and wide, the kind that you'd find printed on a postcard, scenic and lovely and with that golden coloured sand that people thought of when they dreamt of holiday destinations. The water was deep blue and foamy and the sound of the rushing waves could put anyone at ease. 

That's exactly how Sansa felt as she walked down it, her white tennis shoes imprinting on the sand and the soft breeze tickling her under her sundress. It was early still, maybe around eight in the morning so the stretch of beach was relatively empty, save for a few joggers and the people along the pier who were walking their dogs. The breeze was starting to pick up now and Sansa was thankful she had decided to throw on a denim jacket before she'd left the house. 

"Hold your hat down, Lyanna" Sansa spoke softly to her daughter as she caught sight of the pink sunhat lifting off her head. Her daughter obeyed as she placed a hand down on the top of her head, but it was short lived almost right away when she became distracted.

"Mama look" Lyanna excitedly said, bending down near the edge of the water to poke a stringy piece of seaweed. She made Sansa bend too since she had a tight hold of her hand. Her eyes were wide and full of that childish wonder Sansa loved to see in her. 

"What this?" she asked her mother. 

"It's called seaweed and it grows under the sea, but the water washes it onto the beach" her daughter probably hadn't taken any of that in but she found telling her the right answer might result in her picking it up one day. She let Lyanna feel it with her hands and laughed as she yelped out a **_yuck_ **at the slimy texture of it. Her laughter quickly turned to a gasp as a gust of wind blew Lyanna's hat right off her head and straight across the golden sand. Sansa stood up in an attempt to catch it but it rolled right towards the running feet of one of the many joggers occupying the strand. 

The stranger bent to pick it up, and as he saw Sansa approaching he smiled and waved it in the air. 

"I believe this belongs to you, young lady" he said to Lyanna as Sansa stopped in front of him. Her daughter was now resting on Sansa's hip and one hand reached out and took her hat back. 

"What do you say, Lyanna?" Sansa prompted her daughter. 

"Thank you" Lyanna offered to the man with a smile. Sansa however did not feel as confident as her daughter did and bowed her head after telling the man thank you once more. He stepped in front of her as she tried to walk away. 

"You're my neighbour, right?" he asked in a voice that was soft and kind. She looked at him then, properly this time and up close, and the most shallow part of her mind judged him on his looks first. She decided then as he looked down at her that he was perhaps the most handsome man she had ever seen. 

He was tall, tall enough that when he stood in front of her his head blocked out the sun. He had hair that fell just below his ears, and it was the shade of blonde that reminded Sansa of those glossy magazines that hosted photos of male models in them. He wasn't young though, she could tell by the grey that peaked its way out of his stubble and the tiny cracks around his eyes. Her mouth went a little dry when she realised she was staring, and all of a sudden his running shoes looked very interesting. 

"Yeah I am. Your neighbour I mean. Yeah we're neighbours" she choked out, feeling at that moment completely incompetent to interact with this man. Or any person for that matter. She wished her heart didn't hammer so much while around people, or that her mind was convinced everyone knew Ramsay and somehow someone would recognise her and tell him where she was. 

"Well welcome to the neighbourhood, I guess" he chuckled a little as he held out a hand "I'm Jaime" 

"I'm uhh...." she contemplated for a split second and then made up her mind "I'm Alayne" 

"Nice to meet you" he told her as he shook her hand. It was warm and rough and she felt a shiver go through her for a reason she couldn't comprehend. She felt slightly silly for giving him a false name, but what would it matter? It wasn't like she was going to make friends with him, she didn't want any friends here or people knowing her true story. She'd create a new story, she thought, a better story of the past. 

"What's your name?" Jaime asked Lyanna, letting go of Sansa's hand and smiling at the tiny girl. He was friendly, Sansa thought in her head as she eyed him, but there was something sad about his eyes. Something sad indeed lay in their green depths. 

"My name's Lyanna. I want to see a mermaid" 

Jaime laughed at her randomness but that was always the way Lyanna had been, open and honest and just a little bit kooky. Those green eyes that were a similar shade to Sansa's daughters made their way to the water and back again. 

"Well you know what?" his voice was low now as he spoke to her "I saw one this morning, sitting over there on that rock"

"Really?" Lyanna gasped, her gaze following where Jaime now pointed. There was unbelievable excitement in her eyes and Sansa felt joy just looking at her. 

"Yeah really, and you know she left some of her favourite sea shells over there by the rock pools" 

"Mama, I go see?" she softly kicked Sansa in the hip in an attempt to get the message across that she wanted to be let down. Sansa obliged and as soon as her feet hit the sand she slowly trotted over to where the collection of small stones formed a rock pool. 

"You know that's probably made her day, letting her believe that a mermaid left those shells for her" Sansa looked up at her neighbour and smiled, genuinely. He smiled back down at her, handsome and bright, and as their eyes met it was like Sansa felt a warmness surge through her. _How superficial of you Sansa,_ she thought in her head, _just because he's handsome you turn into a schoolgirl_. 

Ramsay had never been handsome to her. He had always been dark and brooding and somehow Sansa had fallen for that, but he'd never made her swoon with one look or had turned her insides to mush. It was nice perhaps to talk to a handsome stranger, even for a minute. But she looked away from his green eyes and to her daughter who was now eyeing a cluster of shells she held in her tiny hands. 

"I better go to her" she told him and Jaime nodded, running a hand through his blond hair. 

"Of course, it was nice meeting you. See you around I guess" he told her kindly and she nodded. 

"Definitely" she smiled. She had smiled a lot today, she realised, and she hoped it was going to become a new habit of hers. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the positive feedback on this story so far! If anyone of you have seen the movie Safe Haven then you'll know where I got my inspiration from and if anyone doesn't know then they should definitely give it a watch its brilliant! Anyway hope you enjoy the chapter

The cognac was thick and smooth as it coated Jaime's lips, and he sighed as the first taste slid down his throat. It burned somewhere deep down but he welcomed the distilled sting of it and rested back against the couch. The half empty bottle sat on the coffee table, its lid abandoned beside it and the brown liquid inside glinting dangerously from where it rested. Jaime had been drinking for most of the weekend (his third weekend here) and although he hadn't fallen into a silly drunken stupor, instead choosing to pace himself and drink a few glasses every hour, he still felt the affects of it all rush over him. 

His arms felt heavy and so did his legs, that horrid jumpy feeling arising in the pit of his stomach and his head was a little dizzy. The attraction was however, the fact that it let him _forget_ , even if it was only for a while. But he knew deep down that when the cognac wore off he'd be left alone trying to scramble out of the dark pit of his own mind once again. For now he decided to accept the emptiness of forgetfulness and he allowed Bronn's pale dead face to hide itself in the back of his mind. 

He finished his glass with one large swig and gave up refilling it- grabbing the bottle with his good hand instead. The right one lay stiff and useless where it rested on his thigh. He was making some progress with it, but not as much as he had hoped for. He still couldn't shoot a gun or twist a doorknob without his nerves screaming in pain, but the other day he had almost made a half fist. It was highly embarrassing really, to be made a cripple when he had been so active before. He knew if his brother was here sitting beside him and listening to him complaining he would have laughed. Jaime's temporary disability (he hoped it was temporary) was nothing compared to Tyrion's plight that he'd been born with. 

He smiled as he thought of him, and wished more than ever that he had his presence with him now. But his brother was far away across the sea, managing the Targaryen banking company. He knew that if Tyrion was here he'd most likely scold him for not unpacking despite the fact he'd been here nearly a month. 

 _But I don't belong here_ , Jaime would say, _I don't feel at home._

The boxes were piled in the hallway, not high at all since Jaime had only packed about six, but they loomed down at him like an ominous beast. A reminder perhaps that he'd never be settled here. 

He gracefully stood up from the couch despite the fact he had almost drank a whole bottle of brandy, but Jaime had always been sure on his feet. One of his Lannister traits that perhaps other people found most annoying. His jacket hung at the front door along with his gun belt and he rummaged around until he found the box of cigarettes he'd been looking for. A smoke, he thought, might take an edge off him that a drink could not. 

The air outside was the type that sucked the breath right out of you as soon as you stepped outside, the dead heat stifling any breath Jaime had left in his lungs. It'd take him a while to adjust to it, he knew, the hot summers in Kings Landing were nothing compared to the constant and permanent heat here. It was almost one in the morning and the dark sky hung like an obsidian blanket above him. There were no stars tonight, only a huge glowing moon that rested comfortably atop the sea. Its glimmer caught Jaime's eye as it bounced off the water and the waves that he could hear down at the beach rippled and scattered the reflection. It was a beautiful place, there was no denying that.

_Jaime just felt there was nothing here for him to make him want to stay forever._

He almost let out a yelp as his foot sunk and crashed straight through the wood of his porch. He cursed it under his breath instead, all thoughts of this place being beautiful running from his mind. He took his foot out of the now newly formed hole and assessed the damage. The wood was nearly rotted he could tell that much by looking at it, but he decided it wasn't worth thinking about now. He'd make a trip to the local hardware store tomorrow and grab some wood and nails. 

He walked away from the house and down to the front of his lawn. His was tidy and trimmed and had been when he'd bought it, not like the house straight across from him. The one the pretty red head now owned. He noticed her porch light was on as he narrowed his eyes and lit the cigarette that hung from his mouth. He only noticed her sitting on her front steps when he took the first drag. 

She was looking at him, blue eyes steady and clear yet she dropped them shyly when his gaze met hers. 

He'd met her on the beach a couple days ago and hadn't had much contact with her since despite the fact they were neighbours. She kept herself inside the house and as far as Jaime could see she had avoided almost everyone else in the little fishing community. Not even Brienne knew much about her, and Brienne seemed to know everything about anyone in this place. 

"Nice night, isn't it?" he called over to her, he didn't even need to raise his voice their houses were that close across the street. The shirt she wore was white and baggy and he couldn't tell if she wore shorts or not underneath it, but her legs were bare. He knew that much. 

Seven hells she was pretty, he thought to himself as he took another drag of his smoke. It was strong and ashy, not like he was used to but it seemed everything in Dorne was stronger. Brandy included. 

"Yeah, it is" she replied almost nervously, standing up and wrapping her arms around herself. There had been something he'd picked up on that day he'd talked to her on the beach, a tremor that he couldn't put a finger on. She almost reminded him of those young runaways he had questioned back at the stations in Kings Landing. But he was being ridiculous he knew, years of police training were making his mind work over time "you weren't able to sleep?" she added. 

 _No, sleep won't come to me as easy as it used to,_ he wanted to tell her, _not since my partner died on my watch and I had to hold his dead body in my arms. I can't sleep knowing it's my fault and I wasn't quick enough to save him. Oh and I also got shot and now my hand doesn't work like it used to and that was the reason for me being taken off the Kingsguard force and being made move here, to a fucking retirement village. I've also drank a whole bottle of Dornish cognac and I find you very beautiful._

"It was too hot" he decided to say. His cigarette was nearly gone he noticed as his long fingers brought it back to his mouth "you not able to sleep either?" 

"No couldn't sleep either" she told him, her sparkly eyes meeting his from across the way "it was too hot" 

His lips twitched a little as he cast his eyes downwards. She was lying just like he was, Jaime was certain of it, but he accepted her lie as she had accepted his. When he looked back at her she was halfway up the steps of her porch. 

"Goodnight, Jaime" she waved at him as she opened her door. 

"Night, Alayne" he told her, but she was already gone.

* * *

 _"_ Hey boss?" Brienne caught him as Jaime made his way through the departments office. He looked up from the report he was holding, an unexciting one that was consumed with the charges of a traffic violation from a local. Brienne stood at the notice board that was beside the front desk, a small stack of papers in one hand and a box of pins in the other. 

"Yeah Brienne?" he stopped in his tracks and looked at her. She wore that dutiful look on her face and had the squared off shoulders of someone who believed themselves to be purposeful. She _was_ dutiful and purposeful, and loved her job maybe too much. 

"I've hung up more alerts on the board, a couple missing person posters and the like" she told him and he nodded as he eyed the posters. They were hung up for the benefit of visitors at the station or people who came in to make a statement which was rare, but they were there in case someone might spot the face of a missing person or a wanted felon and recognise them. No one around here knew any missing persons or criminals, Jaime was almost certain on that fact. He didn't spend long looking at them. No one else ever seemed to look either. There was countless posters crammed on the notice board, some hidden behind others and Jaime had not seen one person ever bother to read them. 

"Very good, Brienne" he found himself saying as he handed her the pages he was holding "would you book this into the system for me? I'm no good on computers, and make sure you bill the traffic fine to the _right_ address. I don't want anyone showing up here with a traffic fine not meant for them" 

Podrick had created quite the kafuffle the week previous when he had done just that. Sending a speeding ticket to the wrong address and causing the person to come down to the station, demanding why they had a traffic fine to pay when they didn't even drive. Jaime had not even gotten mad at the mistake. It was the most excitement the station had seen all month.

"No problem, Sergeant" Brienne nodded "you heading for lunch?"

"Hardware store" he replied with a roll of his eyes, but he didn't stop to explain as he turned around and walked out into the midday sun.

It was warm outside, with that soft oceanic breeze that flitted itself through the town and Jaime was glad it was nowhere near as hot as it had been at night but he still found himself tugging at his uniform collar as he walked. He waved and smiled courteously at people as they acknowledged him as he walked by. He was the towns Sergeant now and he knew greeting these people kindly was part of that. They didn't turn back to notice how his smiles faltered as soon as they were out of sight.

The hardware store was close by the station, just a couple minutes walk and Jaime was glad of the stores air conditioning as he entered. There wasn't many customers in here at all as he quickly peered around and he delighted at the fact that maybe nobody would approach him for conversation. It was an annoying habit the residents of Salt Shore had in common. 

He picked up a steel basket and threw some nails and a hammer into it as he browsed around. It was the timber samples he found himself staring at for a length. _Why were they all so different? Did it really matter what wood he bought?_ He found himself stumped as he looked between the pressure treated pine and the Dornish ipe, and didn't notice how his trouser leg was being pulled on for a whole minute. When he did eventually look down to view the culprit he was startled to see a pair of green eyes staring up at him. 

"Are you a police man?" she asked him, her long red curls blowing around her face gently with the air of the stores fans. Her voice was soft and had that toddler quality to it that made her undeniably adorable. He knelt down to her level and smiled at her, genuinely. 

"Yep, I am. See I have this really cool badge" he told her and her eyes lit up a little as he pointed to the silver thing that lay on the breast of his navy blue uniform. He remembered her from that day at the beach, Lyanna he recalled her name was, and before he could ask where her mother was he heard a drawn out gasp that made him look up. 

"Lyanna, oh my goodness!" she had been in a state of panic, it was clear to see when he looked at her "I turn around for a second and you wander off. What did mummy tell you?" 

"It happens, not to worry" Jaime told her as he stood up. Alayne swooped her small daughter up with her free arm, the other was looped in the handle of a basket. His words didn't seem to soothe her self berating however when he looked at her closely and noticed she still had that deep set worry in her eyes. There it was again, that hidden tremor she held within herself that Jaime couldn't quite put a finger on. 

She looked exceptionally pretty today with her green sundress on, a colour that most complimented her. Her copper hair was thrown up in a thick knot on her head and some stray curls hung around her face. This close up he could see the pale smattering of freckles that were dashed across her button nose and blushing cheeks. If he was ten years younger perhaps he would ask her out. He'd been rather good at flirting back when he was a young detective in Kings Landing. His heart flipped in his chest when her crystal blue eyes met his. He found then that he was the one who blushed and he quickly looked away. 

"Police man, mama" Lyanna said to her mother and the other red haired girl nodded. 

"Yes, he's a police man" her voice seemed somewhat shaky and strained. 

"Can you find my bunny?" Lyanna asked him, perking up from where she sat on her mothers hip "he went away and he don't come back" 

He found the defiant pout of her lips and the shake of her head was worth a smile, and the incorrect phrasing of words just added to her cuteness. 

"Your bunny?" Jaime raised an eyebrow "was he your pet?" 

"It's not a real bunny" Alayne answered, shifting a little with the weight of what she was carrying "it was a white stuffed bunny she'd adored since she was a baby. It um...must have gotten lost in the move. She can't sleep without him" 

"Well in that case, I'll have a look for him with my other police friends and make some missing posters" he gave Alayne a wink which she smiled at but the small child seemed satisfied with his answer. In her childish mind she had believed every word of Jaime's and he was happy if it gave her some comfort. Alayne shifted yet again and tried to hold Lyanna tighter to her hip as she slowly began to slide off.

"Here let me help" Jaime offered as he reached for the basket on her arm that was causing the difficulty in holding her child. He noticed that within the basket there was almost fifteen clear packages that contained shiny new locks and bolts. She froze a little where she stood as he looked at her, and Jaime was sure he wore a slightly perplexed expression on his face. 

"The house is old" she stammered even though he hadn't asked "it needs new locks. We better go, we'll see you around. Say goodbye to Jaime, Lyanna" 

"Bye bye Mr police man" she said over her mothers shoulder as Alayne turned around and made her way to the checkout. A tiny hand raised itself in a wave that Jaime copied as he was left standing there in the middle of the timber section. 

He was perhaps a little intrigued by this woman, he admitted to himself, despite the fact she came across as a closed book. She was a mystery he concluded, but Jaime was a police man after all and had always been good at getting to the bottom of things. And this woman was a mystery he was going to solve. 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy!

Since moving to Salt Shore, Sansa had settled herself into a comfortable routine. Getting up in the mornings and preparing breakfast, and then taking her daughter down to the stretch of beach for a walk. She found the morning air did her head good and cleared away those niggling memories of her nightmares from the night before. Lyanna loved the beach and delighted in exploring the rock pools and keeping an eye out for the infamous mermaid that she believed swam in its waters. 

Sansa liked to sit on the golden sand beside her daughter and watch her play, but from behind the dark glass of her sun shades she also liked to watch her neighbour jog up and down in front of the sea. She had become quite accustomed to staring at him whenever she got the chance, and couldn't hide the fact any longer that she found him to be unbelievably attractive. But he was just another thing to be admired in this small little fishing community, just another beautiful thing that Sansa knew she wouldn't be around forever. 

Somehow, deep down, she knew that she couldn't hide her daughter away for the rest of their lives. It was only a matter of time before Ramsay found out where they were. The haunting nightmares she had each night, the vision of her tormentor materialising himself into her dreams made her sweat and shake but in the morning they vanished. Yet the memories did not. Neither did the reality of her situation. But it was Lyanna who held Sansa together, her daughter made her sane when she felt like crumbling. For that she was eternally grateful.  

The only adult conversation she had since arriving here had been with her very handsome neighbour, and somehow these little conversations they had each night outside on their porches were keeping Sansa sane too. Jaime thought her name was Alayne, and each time he called her that she would cringe in guilt. But it was better this way- to not know anything. He didn't know why she had come to Salt Shore or what she was running from, but they talked about their days and mostly about his work. He found it boring and she had to laugh at him when he rolled his eyes while talking about the Junior Officer he loved to complain about. He never came over to her though, he sat on the steps of his porch and she would sit on hers- sometimes he'd stand near the picket fence with a cigarette but that was as close as he'd get. 

He respected her secret plea for distance even though she'd never told him she needed it. But somehow he knew not to pry too close. But deep in her mind she knew he was distancing himself from her for some reason. He had secrets too. 

But her late night conversations with Jaime could not distract her from the fact that her money (the little she had taken with her) was dwindling and that Lyanna was growing increasingly bored playing with herself. She'd had friends back home in preschool and Sansa sometimes met with other mums in the playground. Here her daughter had no one but Sansa. Her daughter was now toddling around the living room, a stick in her hand that had lengths of colourful ribbon at the end and she giggled each time the ribbon swirled around her feet.

Sansa stood in the kitchen watching her and allowing herself to smile despite the fact she felt hopeless. The past couple of days she'd been looking for a job in the local area but it seemed no one was hiring. The community was close and there were very few businesses or retail that weren't fully staffed already. She thought about the last five hundred she had crammed under her mattress and wondered how long it would last for. The cupboards were almost bare and she needed another trip to the grocery store, and Lyanna needed some new clothes. The ones she had been wearing had been from Olenna and although Sansa was handy with a sewing needle she knew she couldn't wear too long hand me downs forever. 

She swiftly grabbed the keys to the front door and walked over to her daughter- trying to ignore the hopeless thoughts in her head. 

"Hey, how about you and I go for some breakfast?" Sansa asked the small redhead who was now twirling around in circles like a princess- the blue, purple and green ribbon waving all around her. She stopped and wobbled a little, those large green eyes staring up at Sansa. She nodded her head and dropped the ribbon- raising those small hands in the air for her mama to pick her up. Sansa obliged and swung her onto her hip and headed straight for the door. 

* * *

_Shae's_ café was small and airy, with light blue walls and a large white counter that hosted many delicious looking cakes that made little Lyanna's eyes widen whenever she peered through the glass. It had about ten small wooden tables with a vase of artificial flowers on each one and as Sansa let go of her daughters hand as soon as they entered, she toddled over to her favourite table near the window. She liked to sit up on her knees and peer out at the people of Salt Shore- her daughters ever curious green eyes following each person as they strolled by. 

She sat across from her and let Lyanna commence her people watching while she pulled out the large yellow pages book from her bag. Most of the pages were circled and highlighted from her endless job hunt, but most of the job advertisements were crossed off from being turned down. So far she had phoned a florists, a bait and tackle shop, a small Dornish restaurant that was looking for waiting staff and even a local hair salon for a receptionist position. So far each and every one had either politely turned her down or explained they were no longer hiring. 

She needed money. She needed it so that she wasn't worrying when the cupboards would go bare again, and so she could save enough to move somewhere else someday. Across the sea perhaps, where Ramsay would never find her. The yellow page stared at her dauntingly and she sighed as she held up her pink pen, ready once more to mark promising jobs. 

"Mama look, police man!" Lyanna excitedly bounced on her chair as she stared and pointed out the window. There standing on the opposite side of the road in his light blue police uniform and with green eyes staring at a notebook and back to the two dented cars in front of him was Jaime. Sansa couldn't fight how her weak heart trembled in her chest at the sight of his figure. So tall and strong, and with those aged hands that looked like they could hold her in the way she'd always craved to be held by a man. She coughed a little and looked down, back to those irritatingly yellow pages with the pink pen marks. 

"Lyanna, you can call him Jaime. That's his name, sweetheart" Sansa eyed her daughter from across the table and observed how her daughter continued to look at the neighbourhood's friendly police man. She had become quite fond of Jaime and liked to greet him in the mornings with a loud "Mornin Mr Police Man" from where she sat and played on the grass, waving him off as he set off for work. It brought a smile to Jaime's face each time she did it, but Sansa felt something deep inside her chest tug and pull. Lyanna had perhaps never had any sort of healthy interaction with someone other than Sansa- she certainly had never beamed at Ramsay like the way she smiled at Jaime. 

She let herself stare out the window once more and as she looked Jaime lifted a hand through his blond hair, completely oblivious to the fact that his neighbour was ogling him from across the street. He pushed the locks from his eyes and continued to write things down in the notebook- from the look of the frantic elderly lady beside him and the very apologetic teenager she only guessed he was taking statements from the drivers involved in the accident. It could hardly be considered an accident from what Sansa could see. There was only a scratch on the back of one of the cars. Nothing exciting happens here, Jaime had told her one late night as he sat on the steps of his beach house porch and smoked. 

"He's quite a sight our Sergeant, isn't he?" the voice was foreign and heavy and it made Sansa jump from where she sat. She relaxed as she peered up from where she sat, her eyes resting on the small frame of the brunette who owned the tiny diner. Shae was always friendly each time Sansa and Lyanna had come for breakfast- a grin on her face and a kind light shining in her eyes. 

Sansa coughed a little but didn't answer Shae's statement about Sergeant Lannister being a sight to behold. He was however, but Sansa felt it wasn't the time or place to comment. The short café owner just smiled to herself and took out a small notebook from the front of her apron, her deep dark eyes lifting back to Sansa's cool ones. 

"Are we having the usual? Pancakes for the princess, and coffee and a croissant for mummy?" 

Lyanna giggled a little at being called a princess and her pretty green eyes delighted in the idea. Sansa nodded and smiled at Shae, not missing how her eyes dropped to the yellow pages book Sansa had sat on the table. 

"Yes please, the usual" Sansa answered with but Shae didn't look up from the book, her bottom lip now in between her teeth and her thick dark brows furrowed. 

"I don't mean to be nosy but are you by any chance looking for work? It's getting pretty busy in here lately and I was going to put a sign on the window but now you're here and it seems a bit like fate, huh?" Shae smiled, her accent thick but pleasant. Is this really my fate, thought Sansa, to move to this tiny town and become a diner waitress? 

"Yeah I've been looking for work" she nodded her head, those thick curls of copper tickling her face "I've not had much luck so far" 

"If you're interested you can come back for a trial by the end of the week. It's only waitressing work so it won't pay great" Shae told her but Sansa didn't mind the pay. Anything was welcome at this stage. 

"Thank you so much" Sansa told her and the brunette beamed back at her as she tucked her notebook back in the front pocket of her apron and then she turned around and disappeared through the kitchen door. There was a sense of relief then that washed over her- all the tightness in her body evaporated and diminished at the new prospect of having a job and earning her own money. Now the task of enrolling Lyanna in preschool was next on her agenda but that would prove easy enough- there was one only down the street and was probably the only one in Salt Shore. 

She looked back out the window but found as her eyes rested on the sidewalk that Jaime was gone. She felt her heart sink just a little, the odd feeling washing over her and her mind battled with the thought that she hadn't even known she was looking for him. 

* * *

 Sansa found that as she walked there was an undeniable lightness to her step- that heavy feeling of utter hopelessness had been abandoned and in its place was a newfound promise. Shae hadn't given her the job yet but she had a good feeling that this might just be it. The way for her to secure some more money before fleeing somewhere else. She knew deep down she could phone Robb and he would put himself in debt to help her. But she had to do this on her own. 

She had left the café with a stomach full of coffee and the caffeine in her veins was the reason she was able to face the task of knocking on the local preschools door and enquiring about enrolling Lyanna. It was nice and clean and colourful inside, with spacious areas filled with educational looking toys. Preschool might stabilise her daughter better, she thought, give her some sort of interaction with other children. She stood there talking to the preschool teacher, trying hard to listen to her and not focus on the ugly thought that perhaps in a month or so she'd be pulling Lyanna out and running some place else. But when the friendly teacher had knelt down to Lyanna's level her daughter had hidden behind her mothers legs, and had flat out refused to join in with the other children's group time when offered. _I'm sorry_ , Sansa had apologised, _she's just being shy but we'll be back on Monday._

They'd gone to the market afterwards, and were now walking down the sandy pathways back home with groceries. Sansa held two large brown paper bags to her chest while Lyanna held a small box of cereal. 

"Careful, Lyanna. Hold it tight" Sansa warned gently as she eyed her daughters small hands falter around the side of the box. Her little red headed angel just smiled back at her, a little skip in her step and a twinkle in her eyes. 

"Mama?" came her small voice, drifting upwards to Sansa's ears. Her blue eyes cast downwards to look at her- red curls blowing around her face and her pink sunhat slowly sinking over her forehead. If Sansa had a free hand she would push it out of the way, but they were busy holding up the groceries. 

"Yes Lyanna?" 

"When can we go home?" her words made Sansa falter and somehow the brown paper bag slipped from her grip and before she could catch it, the lemons that had been contained within spilled out onto the pathway. They magnificently rolled all the way down the path to a white picket fence and the person who was leaving through his gate stopped as they bounced towards his feet. Sansa didn't even have to look to know who it would be. 

She looked back at her daughter who had now shifted her attention elsewhere and was now running down the path- cereal box clutched to her chest as she bounded towards Jaime. She stopped in front of him and as he bent down to pick up the lemons, a wide grin spread across his handsome face as he eyed her. Sansa was slowly coming out of her frozen state of shock- her mind still whirling from her daughters question but she found her legs began to numbly move before she even knew it. 

Jaime was crouched on the ground, using one hand to pick up the fruit and Lyanna was making it her business to copy him, kneeling beside him and using both tiny hands to pick up the large lemons. His green eyes peered up at Sansa as she stopped in front of him, and she couldn't deny the feeling it gave her when he did. He was perhaps almost two decades older than her, with greying hair and undeniable wrinkles near his eyes. But seven hells was he beautiful- just like the sort of man she'd always dreamed of having. 

" _Alayne_ " he smirked as he stood, the fake name she had given him pulling her out of her trance. She felt that cold stab of guilt pierce her but her mind was fighting with her- reasoning with her and convincing her it had been the smartest choice. It was better if no one recognised her as Sansa. 

"Jaime" she breathed out, her heart thumping in her chest. Did he have to smile at her like that? 

"It seems I'm getting into the habit of picking up after you" he smirked playfully and Sansa found she was blushing as she knelt down beside him. Her eyes couldn't help but find his when she bent to his level and his moss green gaze held hers for a few seconds before he let his eyes return to the lemons. 

As he began placing them back in the bag Sansa noticed how he winced slightly, his hand contorting at a stiff looking angle. He arose then as did she and her gaze fell onto his hand that- beautiful and aged as it was- was now cramping at his side as he tried to clench and unclench his fist with no success. His long tanned fingers were not able to meet his palm and Sansa found her brow furrowed at the sight. 

"Is your hand alright, Jaime?" her voice dripped with a certain sort of care that she had only ever reserved for Lyanna, and she found she was surpirised in herself that she should care so deeply for someone she did not know very well at all. 

"Nothing to worry about, Alayne. I just got a cramp in it" Jaime replied- that blasted alias on his tongue-and gave her a smile. 

"I hope my clumsiness didn't cause it" Sansa found she now blushed a little out of embarrassment- the memory of her daughters question being the reason she had dropped the bag rushing to her mind. 

"It's an unfortunate side effect from an old injury" he played off his words with a wave, his awareness then going to the smaller redhead who was bouncing up and down for his attention. As he chatted to her daughter, listening to her natter on about how her and her mama were going to use the lemons to make her most favourite lemon cakes, Sansa found herself dissecting his words. 

She had seen the scars on his body one night when he had sat on his porch with nothing but a white tank on his upper body. She saw the slash marks on his left arm and how there was one angry ivory line near his jugular that reached all the way to his collarbone. She had seen the scar that had looked the freshest on his right shoulder, and had followed the small veins that looked like spider webs that wavered from the hole that resembled a bullet wound. He did not seem to be as ashamed of his scars as she was mortified of hers. He bared them all to her in their gruesome entirety without a flinch, yet the thought of ever wearing a tank top to the beach in front of other people horrified Sansa. 

Jaime was a police officer, surely he had received his in the line of duty for being brave. Sansa had gotten hers for being weak. Ramsay had let enough cuts and cigarette burns on her back, her stomach and thighs to remind her of that. 

Sansa found as the memory of Ramsay holding her down and attaching his half smoked cigarette to the soft skin of her pregnant stomach swam to her mind she swayed a little and the vision of her baby and Jaime blurred before her. He was on his feet within a second as he took in the sight of her stumble a little on her feet. Sansa was vaguely aware of the feel of his rough hands on her waist. _Alayne_ , she kept hearing, _are you alright?_

"I'm sorry" she mumbled, shaking her head of red hair and blinking back tears from her eyes "I just got a little woozy. Think it must be the heat" 

She tried to laugh the situation off by attempting to fan herself, but her hand was heavy and dead like as she brought it to her face. Jaime did not believe her, she could tell that much from the apprehensive look in his green eyes but he did not press her further. Instead he gently removed his hands from her body and took the grocery bag from her arm. 

"Here, let me help" he told her softly, much more soft than she thought he was capable of and with one hand he lifted the groceries and with the other he scooped up Lyanna. Not before asking the mothers permission by nodding in the childs direction. Sansa was unsure whether Lyanna would go to him after her downright refusal to interact with the play group practitioner, but her soft little hands extended towards the police man with ease.

Sansa watched stupidly as Jaime beamed at the little girl in his arms and how her ever curious hands went to tangle in his blond hair. A thought flickered through her mind then that looked like a perfect picture of a girl and her father. But Sansa pushed it right down in the deep parts of herself. She did this as she followed him across the sand littered road and towards her small abode, her eyes never leaving her daughter or her small hands that now played with the crest of the police department that was neatly stitched to the fabric on Jaime's shoulder. She had always been so protective of Lyanna, so guarded with her and had only ever let her old preschool teacher have any sort of interaction with her. She had always been so afraid that someday, someone would come along and hurt her like Ramsay had hurt Sansa. 

Yet here she was allowing a man she barely knew to pick her daughter up and hold her close like she was his own. It was all a bit too much for Sansa and it caused her movements then to become abrupt as she cut in front of him as he made to step up onto the porch. 

"Thank you Jaime, but I'm alright from here" 

Her words were unfeeling and to the point and as soon as she saw a flicker of confusion colour his face she felt ultimately guilt ridden. She was a horrible person. He was only trying to be nice, but the thought of letting him inside their safe haven was unfathomable to her. She had no trust in anyone anymore, she didn't feel she could even entirely trust Jaime no matter how kind he had been to her so far. Ramsay had been kind once. Long ago.

It had seemed in the past that Sansa's irrational refusal to trust anyone had seeped into her small daughter. She had remembered when Lyanna was only a toddler and a colleague from work at the publishing company had bent over her pram to get a look at the idle babe- the mans black hair had triggered something in the small child and she had screamed at the top of her lungs. She had shaken so badly once before when she had been at a friends birthday party and a balloon had popped fiercely- the action had caused some children to squeal with a humour filled glee but Lyanna had sat on her mothers knee and had rattled silently. 

She had shook like that in her bed when Ramsay would shout and hit things- Sansa included. She would find her that way, her green eyes wide under her covers and her tiny body heaving with rapid breaths, as she would climb in beside her daughter- tears down her face and wincing over her new bruises. 

"Are you alright, Alayne?" Jaime's soft voice asked her and she blinked, looking back at him. His face was full of concern and his emerald eyes so full of a sympathy Sansa loathed to see in others. It was how people had looked at her back home when she would appear the next day with a new bruise or cut somewhere. She hated it. 

"I'm fine. Come on Lyanna" her reply was blunt as she extended her hands towards her child, and Jaime, having almost forgotten he was holding her made to rip her gently from his hip. Little Lyanna however had other ideas and did not want, under any circumstances, to be parted from the warm embrace of her neighbour. Her tiny hands grasped themselves under the buttoned epaulettes that rested on the shoulders of his police uniform as her mother tried to tug her away. Jaime found his heart did something strange when the girl looked into his eyes and silently pleaded. They were almost the same shade as his own, he thought to himself. 

"Lyanna let go of Jaime, please" Sansa tried in a voice that was a little less strained than how she was feeling. With a breathy sigh and a pout Lyanna let go of her favourite police man and as soon as she was seated on her mothers hip she buried her face in her neck in a stubborn sign of defeat. Jaime watched the two of them with curious eyes and he couldn't help but feel sad for some reason. Alayne looked so pale and fragile in that moment that he wanted to stay and make sure she was alright. But her sudden defensiveness told Jaime not to push her. 

"I guess I'll see you around, Alayne. Lyanna" he bent his head slightly and descended the steps, and as Sansa watched him walk down the sandy path of her garden she felt an overwhelming frigidness wash over her. Come back, she wanted to tell him, I'm frightfully cold without you. 

* * *

After the mess that had been created in the kitchen from the baking session she had with Lyanna was cleaned up, Sansa found herself tucking her daughter into bed. Despite the fact she had remained stubborn with her mother after being pulled away from Jaime, sitting on the countertop and watching her mama bake instead of enthusiastically joining her- she still refused to sleep in the smaller room by herself. _Want to sleep in your bed Mama_ , she had sleepily mumbled after Sansa had bathed and dressed her in her pyjamas. Sansa obliged without protest and lifted her baby under the covers. 

Her small head of red curls nuzzled down close to the covers and her thumb went straight to her mouth. She hadn't been fond of the action since she had been a baby but ever since her beloved bunny had been left behind she had taken it up again. Sansa knelt down beside the bed and found her heart tugged a little at the sight. So fragile and so innocent, she had no idea what her mother had run from and today when she had voiced her desire to return home it had almost caused Sansa to break down. This little girl right here was why she had run, to protect her- to make her life better without an alcoholic abusive father. If not for this small red headed child Sansa was certain she would have been dead by now. 

"Lyanna?" Sansa voiced softly, her fingers running through her daughters copper hair. He eyes- mossy and ethereal like a dense green forest- turned to look at her mother in the dark. _How could she be so beautiful and be half his?_ Sansa shivered at the thought of that monsters blood running through her daughters veins. _No_ , she swallowed down bile, _she is all mine and none of him. She's a Stark. Not a Bolton._

"Lyanna, you know we can't go back home, right?" Sansa tried, watching her daughters expression carefully "we have to stay here for a while and then we have to go somewhere different" 

"What about bunny? And Edric? I miss them" her voice croaked with sleep and Sansa sighed a little as she brushed her fingers down Lyanna's soft cherub face. When she had run she had not contemplated the emotional attachment a two year old would have to her favourite material things or her friend from preschool. 

"I know you do baby, but sometimes a place isn't good anymore and we have to go somewhere else. Do you remember when I read Rapunzel to you? And Rapunzel wanted to leave her tower because she wasn't happy anymore? And the Prince wanted to take her away from the witch because she wasn't nice?" Sansa asked and Lyanna nodded fiercely "well it's like that for us. We needed to leave because our house wasn't a good place. I needed to take you away from your daddy because he wasn't a nice man" 

"He was mean like the witch" Lyanna pouted with wide eyes, and if Sansa was sure of one thing it was that she vehemently hated Ramsay Bolton in that moment. She _hated_ him more than she ever had in her life. How dare he exist to cause such misery in his wake? How dare he have put fear in his own daughter! Sansa wished she had have killed him that night she had fled. 

"Yes my girl, he was mean like the witch" Sansa softly whispered in fear her voice would crack with the emotion "and I know you miss your bunny and your friends but you're going to have so much fun here in preschool. You'll paint and play and make lots of friends, and then you and I can go for some ice cream afterwards and walk on the beach" 

Sansa rambled on for a while after, describing all the lovely things her and her daughter would do in this tiny town in an attempt to fill the spaces of all the bad memories that were locked in Lyanna's head. Her eyes started getting heavy and her breathing even and when Sansa thought she was finally asleep she rose to her feet after kissing her forehead. 

"Mama?" she heard softly just as she was about to close the bedroom door. She turned back to look at Lyanna, a tiny shape in the large bed that looked at her with half lidded eyes. 

"Yes Lyanna?" 

"Is Jaime mean like the witch?" Lyanna asked, and Sansa felt the bottom of her stomach pull uncomfortably. Her daughter thought so much about this man that she was already starting to compare him to her father- and Sansa stood there in the darkness for a second not knowing how to answer. 

"No" she said eventually, her decision not causing any inner turmoil "Jaime is a nice man, Lyanna. He's a good man" 

"He's nice like the prince?" she asked, and Sansa smiled a little at the thought that Jaime did look a little like a prince from a fairy tale.

"Yes baby, he's nice like the prince" 

At her mothers words Lyanna seemed utterly content and she closed her eyes fully yet again-sticking her thumb back in her mouth and nuzzling down to sleep. 

* * *

Outside the heat was beginning to settle down and scatter itself into a mellow breeze that caused the freshness of the sea to wash itself in the atmosphere. Sansa could feel the tepid tickle of the night air caress her face and neck as she stepped outside- a plate of neatly arranged lemon cakes in her hands. Her daughters words had resonated something within her and she felt like she owed Jaime some sort of apology for being so blunt with him earlier. He wasn't a bad man, and ever since Sansa had moved here he had shown her the utmost respect and friendliness. He held none of that evil sneer in his eyes that she had grown used to looking at in Ramsay, and Jaime's presence in her life had come like a freight train that demanded her to reconsider her opinion that all men would hurt her. 

Jaime had sat outside most nights on his porch and conversed with her, but tonight she found it empty with only the small light on above the place he normally rested. She made her way over to his house, her insides beginning to tremble and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. If Ramsay were here to see her talk to another man he would surely accuse her of cheating. _Slut_ , he would shout in her face. _He's just my neighbour, nothing more! He carried my groceries I'm just saying thank you_ , she would plead. 

But Ramsay wasn't here. She reminded herself of that as she knocked on the door. 

"Alayne?" Jaime looked confused for a minute as he opened the door but his expression softened a little as he took her in. Sansa eyed him carefully and found her heart did a flip when she noticed his hair was wet and pushed back and the v line of his tshirt revealed a strip of dripping, tanned skin. 

"Jaime" she breathed out as she met his eyes "I brought you these" 

"Thank you" he sounded genuinely surprised at her random act of kindness and he beamed at her as he took the plate. 

"I made extra so you could take them to the station with you, and I promise you no toddler hands were involved in the making" she smiled at him nervously and let her fingers fidget with the zip of her hoodie. He was eyeing her curiously with those handsome green eyes of his, and she could sense that he knew she had come over to say more. Suddenly the heat was back in the air and Sansa felt choked. 

"I...uh I wanted to say I'm sorry if I was abrupt earlier" her cheeks began to heat up a little and her hands started to shake "it's no excuse but I......haven't had many friends the last few years, and I'm not used to kindness or people being kind to Lyanna and I guess I was overwhelmed. I was blunt with you, you were only trying to be nice, and I shouldn't have been" 

"Alayne, you don't have to apologise you did nothing wrong" Jaime told her, and as he stood there in his doorway he wondered where this newfound softness came from. In the station he was his usual uptight sarcastic self but each time he was near her or her daughter he found himself becoming the person he had buried so many years ago. As if to lighten the tension he then said with a laugh "and I don't think there's many people who would consider me nice, so thank you for your compliment" 

"Trust me I know bad people, and I don't sense anything of the like from you" Sansa told him with an awkward smile "and besides I don't know many men who still carry womens groceries to their door" 

"My mother raised me to be a perfect gentleman" he smiled playfully at her, and she almost lost her balance from the power it had over her but she regained herself quickly. 

"Well I'm sure she's very proud of you" she remarked and something sad washed over his face that was utterly melancholy. 

"I'm sure she is" Jaime replied, and Sansa felt the chill of the night swoop over her once again. 

"Well I better get back inside, Lyanna is asleep and I don't want her to wake and find me gone" Sansa told him and his green eyes flickered over her head to the small house behind her- but there was something else that swam in them and in the way his shoulders slowly dropped. Was it disappointment? Sansa would not even let her mind develop on the prospect of it. 

"Thanks again for these, they look even too tempting to share with the other officers" Jaime lightly joked "Goodnight then" 

"Goodnight, Jaime" her voice was soft and whimsical and she smiled at him brightly before she turned away. She felt his eyes on her as she walked across the street and there was nothing of the heaviness in it that she had so often felt with Ramsay. She didn't feel nervous or like she was being scrutinised- she just felt peaceful that in some small way she had apologised to him. 

She smiled to herself when she realised his door only closed when she was safely inside. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
